Painting Our Own Picture
by GraceButYouCanCallMeGracie
Summary: Sequel to "The Titanic Should Have Prepared Her For This". It's two years later and Quinn and Santana are finally ready to start their new lives together and paint their own picture, no matter how difficult or 'backwards' things become.
1. Come Josephine, In My Flying Machine

**Painting Our Own Picture**

Word count: 4,350

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own glee. It's mine.

A/N: Yay for sequels! And my impatience, because seriously, it's only been five days. But I decided to write one because I wanted to and you guys said you wanted it and needed it, so who was I to refuse? Also because Quinntana2 thinks she might love me.

Thank you to my lovely beta, Floydist for editing this chapter and helping me brainstorm dog names.

Here you go, chapter one for the sequel to "The Titanic Should Have Prepared Her For This", Painting Our Own Picture.

* * *

_2 years later_

"A sho-lo-lee- what?" Quinn asked, totally confused as to what Santana had just said and why she was saying it when the blonde was trying to shave her legs.

"A Xoloitzcuintli," Santana pronounced perfectly, as if she had been saying it all her life. "They're a Mexican hairless breed with like… bat ears."

Quinn shook her head, dragging the razor back up her leg. "I don't even know what you're saying."

"Okay, say it with me, sho-lo-eetz-qui-"

"No, Santana, I don't want to get a dog that I can't pronounce or a hairless breed. Neither of us are allergic to dog hair and I want one that I can cuddle up with," Quinn explained.

Santana sighed and shifted on the closed toilet seat, searching her computer again for another type of dog. "Well, here, how about- aww- how about this little puff ball thing? A Puli," Santana asked, turning the laptop around to face Quinn.

Quinn turned slightly on the edge of the bathtub to look at the yarn-ball looking dog hopping over a pole. She had to admit, it did look adorable. "We can't. You have to spend a lot of time separating their cords. I don't want a dog that will require a ton of grooming," Quinn told her.

Santana gave her a confused look. "How do you know so much about Pulis?" she asked.

Quinn shrugged. "My aunt had one." She pulled the towel tighter to herself as it began to fall loose.

"Okay, fine. Oh! How about a Cambodian Razorback? They have this big razor going down their back! They don't overheat, though, and they're protective, but they won't bark excessively and they're known for being loving," Santana read off the facts about the dog.

"You can't cuddle with a dog that has a giant razor going down it's back, and besides, where do you even get a dog like that?" Quinn questioned.

"Cambodia," Santana shrugged.

Quinn set the razor down, finally finished, and turned to Santana. "What's wrong with getting a normal dog?" she asked.

"Well, that's no fun," Santana pouted.

Quinn chuckled. "Come on, San, we'll go to the humane society the day after tomorrow and pick out a really cute, homeless, loving puppy that you'll fall in love with-"

"And I shall call him Squishy and he shall be mine and he shall be my Squishy," Santana finished for her.

"Oh my God, you've been spending too much time watching movies with Brittany," Quinn laughed.

"Maybe if you didn't spend so much time with Rachel, I wouldn't have to kidnap her girlfriend and watch Finding Nemo," Santana said.

Quinn stood up and exited the bathroom. "Well, the good news is that Rachel and I finished my résumé, so I'll be all set to look for work."

Santana laughed and walked into their bedroom, setting the laptop on the desk in the corner. "You don't want to graduate first?"

"The ceremony is tomorrow."

"And you're allowed to breathe. We're not going bankrupt," Santana told her.

Quinn dropped her towel and began to search through her drawers for clothes to sleep in. "What if you dump me in a month? I need some sort of money to live off of."

Santana licked her lips. "With an ass like that, it'd take me at least two months to dump you."

Quinn looked over her shoulder and smirked before grabbing a pair of pink lace panties and sliding them over her legs. "How generous."

"I'm nothing but," Santana agreed, before swiftly walking across the room and stopping Quinn's hands with hers. "You might want to leave those off tonight."

Quinn let Santana slide them back off her legs and spun around. "I thought we were celebrating tomorrow," she breathed.

"Consider this a preview," Santana husked out before pressing a searing kiss to Quinn's lips.

* * *

"Could you guys refrain from keeping your lips locked for three seconds so I can take a picture?" Rachel asked exasperatedly.

The blonde and brunette pulled away, with Santana wiping her lips, slightly. "I can't be proud of my girlfriend?" the Latina asked.

"There are plenty of other ways and at least places to do that. I need to send at least one usable picture to Quinn's mom."

"Okay, let's just take the picture. It's scalding out here," Kurt said, fanning his face.

"Alright, on the count of three you two. One... two... three..."

Quinn accepted her diploma with a grin on her face. She was done with school, she had her degree, and she could start a career. She had nowhere to go but forward.

Whooping and cheers erupted from the third row. Santana, Rachel, Brittany and even Kurt and Puck had come to support Quinn. Everyone who was in New York. The art graduation was the last ceremony, Rachel and Brittany having already had theirs, as well as the whole class ceremony.

Of course the five of them were burning, trying their hardest to look proud and supportive without catching on fire. Quinn was ecstatic though. She was officially an art major.

"Ladies and gentleman, I now present to you, the New York University 2016 class of art studies," Professor Smith announced, causing loud cheers to erupt from the graduates and subdued clapping from their friends and family.

When the ceremony was over, Quinn made her way back to her friends. Brittany hugged her first, lifting her off the ground and causing Quinn to chuckle. Rachel threw her arms around the blonde's neck, standing on her tippy-toes to reach her.

"Oh come here!" Kurt ordered and Quinn obeyed, embracing him tightly.

"Congratulations, baby mama," Puck smirked, wrapping his arms around the blonde. Quinn hugged him back and smiled at the comfort the boy provided.

When she was released, Quinn spun around to face Santana, who gripped her black robe and pulled her close, immediately attaching her lips to the blonde's. Quinn melted into the embrace, and opened her eyes, slightly dazed, when Santana pulled away. "I'm so proud of you," she said, quietly, before leaning in and pressing her lips against Quinn's ear. "And tonight, I plan on showing you just how proud I am."

Quinn shivered involuntarily, her mouth suddenly dry and another area suddenly not-so-dry. She knew it was coming, and yet the excitement of how she and Santana would celebrate privately tonight was overwhelming. The Latina stepped back and smirked, knowing exactly what she was doing to the blonde.

"Alright, let's celebrate!" Puck announced.

* * *

Quinn and Santana stumbled into their apartment after the Latina took about ten tries to get the key in. Giggling and occasionally running into things, both girls were more than a little tipsy.

Santana grabbed Quinn's hand and pulled her through the hallway and into their living room. "Shit," she giggled. "Which way is the... umm, bed?"

Quinn just blatantly stared at Santana's lips, pulling her closer. "Who cares?" she pulled the Latina's head towards hers, slamming their lips together. She pressed Santana's body up against the glass sliding door that led to their small balcony. Santana reached behind her and unzipped Quinn's dress, the one that the blonde had worn under her graduation robe, and the article of clothing hung limply off of Quinn's shoulders and between their bodies.

Their lips slid together sensually as the brunette leaned up a little bit, away from the door, and turned the lock, awkwardly pushing it open with her arm behind her back. Santana pulled away from the kiss and let Quinn's dress pool to the ground before pulling the blonde out onto the balcony.

It was dark outside, save for the billions of lights shining throughout New York City. Santana pressed Quinn up against the railing and brought their lips together again. The kiss was rushed and desperate, both girls wanting to get closer to the other, neither bothering to worry about the millions of people below them, or the fact that anyone above them could walk out onto their balcony right now and see the two women.

Pulling away for a breath, Santana finally took a good look at her girlfriend. Quinn's body was flushed, her chest heaving, a light sheen of sweat covering her body despite the chilly New York air, courtesy of the alcohol and make out session. She was clad only in a blue bra and satin panties, purple heels still on her feet. Quinn's make up was slightly smudged, her hair slightly askew. Santana moaned at the incredibly sexy sight of her girlfriend. Quinn was so damn hot.

Quinn felt herself being spun around and braced her hands against the railing as Santana began sucking along the vein in her neck, her hands running up and down her midsection. The Latina's lips began slowing down, the rushed, frantic speed turning to a sensual, sexy one. Quinn felt a hand reaching up to her cheek, pulling her face to the side, where Santana's lips met hers immediately. The other hand slowly slid from her lower belly to her abs, grazing its nails against them slightly. The hand continued to rise, causing Quinn's muscles to twitch, before it passed over her ribs and reached its destination. Santana slipped her hand underneath Quinn's bra, causing the blonde to gasp, and giving Santana a chance to slide her tongue into the blonde's mouth.

As their tongues battled for dominance, the hand on her cheek slid down her neck to her shoulder, all the way down her arm before grabbing her hand and prying her fingers from the railing. Santana laced her fingers with Quinn's from the back of her hand before bringing both of their hands to the blonde's lower stomach. Quinn felt her hand being dragged lower and lower before slipping underneath the hemline of her panties and coming in contact with the abundance of wetness there. Both girls moaned at just how wet Quinn was, and Santana started moving their hands, forcing the blonde to rub herself along with Santana's hand.

Quinn was immediately reminded of their first encounter, when she was in a very similar position, the only difference being the hand slowly massaging her breast and the fact that Santana was now behind her.

Santana pulled herself impossibly closer to Quinn, her body pressed up right against the blonde as she began to slowly rub herself against the voluptuous ass pressed into her pelvis.

Their hands slowly began to pick up the pace and Quinn dropped her head forward, looking down at the cars and people wandering through the streets below.

"It's exciting isn't it?" Santana's voice breathed into her ear. "That they're all down there while you're up here, being fucked roughly."

Quinn couldn't help but point out, "T-technically, I'm-mmm, I-I'm not being f-fucked," she stumbled out, the pleasure clouding her mind.

Suddenly their hands were unlaced, and Quinn faltered in her rubbing without the guide of Santana's hand. She felt Santana's hand slip lower, until she was roughly impaled onto two fingers.

"Oh FUCK!" she cried out loudly, feeling relief in finally being taken care of right where she wanted it.

"Is that better?" Santana asked.

"O-oh yes," Quinn moaned as the Latina pulled out completely, before shoving back inside of her.

"Keep rubbing yourself," Santana rasped out.

Quinn did as she was told, her fingers starting to rub her clit in slow, wonderfully delicious circles. "Fuck, S-Santana, I- oh my God," Quinn's eyes rolled back in her head as Santana picked up the pace, her own fingers struggling to keep up.

"What if one of them looked up, Quinnie?" Santana asked, and Quinn looked back down at the crowds of people. "What if they knew exactly what you were doing? Rubbing yourself, getting fucked..." Quinn moaned loudly, throatily. "If they watched you while you cried out in pleasure, at the mercy of my fingers, frantically rubbing your clit, hungry for release..."

"Oh God, Santana, Oh fuck, please," Quinn cried out, not sure what she was begging for.

"Please what, Quinnie?" the voice husked into her ear.

"Please, fuck me harder, f-faster, anything," Quinn breathed.

Santana's fingers sped to an impossibly fast pace, mercilessly fucking the blonde into oblivion. Quinn sped up as well, pinching and rolling her clit, moaning constantly.

Suddenly Santana reached that spot inside of Quinn, curling and scissoring her fingers. "Ahhhh! Holy fucking shit," she screamed, throwing her head back onto Santana's shoulder.

"Come for me, Quinn," Santana whispered into her ear.

Pleasure burst through Quinn's core immediately, the blonde screaming and moaning and groaning as her orgasm hit her intensely. Crying out Santana's name, her hips rolled and jerked as her body writhed, uncontrollable as ecstasy poured through her veins and took over any thought or bodily function. Santana held her as her body acted without her control, her hand flying out of her panties to grip the railing as she lurched forward, forcefully riding out the aftershocks, the Latina's fingers continuing to move inside of her, drawing her orgasm out longer.

When the pleasure subsided, Quinn took a moment to catch her breath, panting and chest heaving. She felt a hand softly running through her hair and smiled. She straightened out her back and turned around. Sudden surprise of how quickly she seemed to sober up hit Quinn, before she shrugged it off and pressed a quick kiss to her girlfriend's lips. "Thank you."

Santana just smiled, pressing her forehead to Quinn's. "Congratulations."

Quinn laughed and grabbed Santana's hand, pulling her back into their apartment. Finally having the clarity to find their bedroom, the blonde took them through the living room and into the hallway to the first door on the left. Pushing it open, Quinn let Santana go in first before following and closing the door. She kicked off her heels, barely noticing Santana doing the same.

Quinn swiftly walked up to the Latina and gripped the zipper to her dress. She slowly tugged it down, watching as it gave way, tan skin pouring out. Kicking the dress away, Quinn flicked the clasp to Santana's bra and watched her pull it down her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

The blonde inhaled deeply as she ran her hands along firm shoulders. She dragged her fingers down smooth skin, traveling over her shoulder blades. Quinn traced along each muscle, skimming over the dip in her back and rubbing her thumbs along the dimples just above her ass. She listened carefully to each soft moan and whimper, reveling in the reactions she was earning.

Quinn hooked her fingers in the purple bikini briefs Santana was wearing, surprised by their modesty compared to some of the Latina's other choices of underwear. She slowly dragged them down the model's legs, helping Santana step out of them before rising back up, playfully swatting Santana's ass on her way up.

Santana turned around and threw her arms over Quinn's shoulders. The blonde placed her hands on Santana's hips and pulled her in for a kiss.

"I love you," Quinn said, pulling away and resting her forehead against the shorter girl's. "So, so much."

"I love you, too, Quinn. More than anything," Santana replied.

Quinn smiled and gently pressed on Santana's shoulders. The Latina got the hint and fell backwards onto the bed. She slowly crawled backwards up the bed, Quinn removing the rest of her clothing before following.

Quinn straddled Santana's hips, looking down and smirking. "Has anyone told you that your chest is amazing?" She asked.

"You have. Frequently," Santana replied.

"You should hear it more often," Quinn responded, not even looking up from Santana's breasts.

Santana squirmed from her arousal. "God, Quinn, take a picture or something later, I need you to do something. Now!"

Quinn brought her hands down and began massaging, garnering a moan from the woman below her. She leaned down and took a nipple into her mouth, sucking and nipping as she slid her hand down to the heat between Santana's legs.

"Quinn... _fuck me_."

The blonde pulled away from the breast she was paying loving attention to, in order to look into Santana's desperate eyes. She watched them roll back in her head as she entered her. She slowly pulled all the way out, before roughly slamming back in, finding little resistance from how wet she was.

"Oh fuck, faster," Santana demanded, her eyes slipping closed.

Quinn acquiesced, picking up the pace considerably, using her thumb to rub Santana's clit. She slid her other arm underneath Santana's shoulder blade, lying down fully against the Latina. Both girls moaned at the skin-to-skin contact.

Quinn slipped a third finger into Santana, causing the girl to let out a throaty moan. Santana wrapped her arms around Quinn, gripping her back for purchase as she felt her orgasm nearing, her hips meeting Quinn's fingers with jerky movement.

"Santana, open your eyes," Quinn told her.

Quinn watched Santana's eyes fly open, her pupils dilated and glazed over. She wanted to watch Santana fall over the edge, to see the pleasure and emotion flash through her eyes.

The blonde sped up even further, jack hammering into Santana, using her hips against her hand to gain leverage and thrust harder into the Latina. She pressed down on Santana's clit and the dark-haired girl let out a scream.

"Ah, ah, fucking God, Quinn!" she cried out as her orgasm crashed through her, pure pleasure spreading from her head to her toes. She stared into Quinn's eyes as the white-hot pleasure coursed through her, legs shaking and hips jerking.

Quinn watched Santana struggle to focus on her. Holding down her girlfriend's hips with her own, she continued to thrust, despite the tight resistance of Santana's walls. She continued to keep eye contact through Santana's screams and groans, moaning as the model's hips began to slow down.

Santana finally relaxed as the last wave of pleasure from her climax subsided. Quinn sat up and pulled out of the girl below her, bringing her fingers to her lips. She licked and sucked each one slowly, moaning at the taste.

Santana watched her, enraptured, moaning along with the blonde at each finger. "Fuck, that's hot."

"You taste... amazing," Quinn breathed. When she was finished cleaning her fingers of Santana's juices, she smiled. "Ready for round two?"

Santana nodded frantically. Quinn smirked and lifted her hips, slowly sliding down Santana's body until she was face to face with Santana's core.

Santana's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she moaned, loudly, at the feeling of Quinn's tongue entering her. She wrapped her fingers in Quinn's long blonde hair and pulled her closer to her center.

They would probably have noise complaints in the morning.

* * *

Santana's eyes flew open at the sound of the alarm clock beeping obnoxiously. She rolled her eyes and lifted up slightly, swinging her arm back and hitting the off button, instead of the snooze. Usually the alarm was set for Quinn's first class. Santana, being the light sleeper, regardless of how much she was not a morning person, would hear it and wake Quinn up. She smiled at how they no longer needed an alarm clock. They could get up whenever the fuck they wanted. That was, at least until Quinn found a job, or if Santana had to work early that day.

Santana smiled at the blonde she was cuddled up to below her. This is how they always ended up. With Santana cuddled up to Quinn, and Quinn's arms wrapped protectively around her, their legs intertwined.

Santana leaned down and pressed a kiss to Quinn's lips. She didn't have to wait long for Quinn to respond to the kiss, the blonde's lips moving softly with hers.

When Santana pulled away, she looked into Quinn's sleepy eyes, a smile only just making its way across her lips.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Santana teased.

"You should wake me up like that more often," Quinn spoke, her voice groggy and hoarse.

"Noted," Santana told her.

Quinn tried to lean up to capture the Latina's lips again, but Santana pulled her head up. "No, it's time to get up. The _puppies_, Quinn!" Santana said, excitement radiating off of her.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Right. How could we forget about the puppies?"

Santana popped up from the bed and Quinn watched her, amused. She's never seen Santana with such child-like enthusiasm. "I'm gonna go shower."

"I'll join you!" Quinn suggested.

"No, you'll just stall us," Santana argued.

"No, if we only took one shower we'd save time!" Quinn countered.

Santana eye her skeptically before relenting. "Fine, but you better keep your hands to yourself."

Quinn crossed her heart and sprung from the bed, following the Latina.

Of course it took twice as long to get out of that shower.

* * *

"We are not getting a Great Dane," Quinn said, with no room for argument.

The were currently standing in the Humane Society shelter, looking around the silver cages for a puppy, the sound of various dogs barking filling the room.

"Why not?" Santana pouted, holding on to Quinn's arm.

"There's no room for it in our apartment," Quinn argued.

"But look how cute the puppies are!"

"How about one of these little Chihuahuas," Quinn offered, pointing to the cage of tiny, multi-colored puppies behind them.

"No, I do not want some little yippy dog, who's gonna bark my ear off all night," Santana refused.

Quinn pointed to the cage of comedic-looking puppies and giggled. "We could get a pug!"

"They're prone to snoring, so if you want a dog that won't make noise at night, that might not be your best choice," the woman aiding them pointed out.

"Well, what would be a good choice for a generally quiet dog, that's small enough that it would be fine in an apartment?" Quinn asked, before adding, "Oh, and we have a balcony, so we need one that isn't tall enough to jump our four-foot rail in case it manages to get out there."

Both girls flushed for a moment thinking about exactly what happened on that balcony, up against that rail, last night.

The lady led them to a cage a couple rows down. "Well, we did just rescue a couple of golden doodle mixes, recently. A Golden Retriever and a Toy Poodle, so they shouldn't get too big, and they're generally known as a quiet dog, pretty mellow. They need to be taken out a lot though and you may have to brush its fur. But they're known to be great cuddlers, and are generally good with kids."

They stopped at a pretty small cage at the end of the row and looked inside. Both girls swooned and let out an "aww" at the sight of the four puppies that had to have been just barely old enough to be released.

"They're adorable," Quinn said quietly. She immediately caught sight of one of the puppies that was smaller and slightly darker than the rest, it's soft brown fur just barely starting to curl. It had a piece of its left ear taken out, and Quinn's heart broke for the poor, abandoned, misfit puppy. "San, look," she pointed.

Santana nodded. "I know, I see it." The two girls looked into each other's eyes for a moment, seemingly having a silent conversation before coming to the same conclusion. "We'll take that one," Santana said, turning to the woman and gesturing to the puppy.

The lady nodded and smiled. "Wonderful."

She told a boy nearby who was working at the shelter to get the puppy set up while she gave Quinn and Santana the paperwork. Everything went by in a blur. The two girls signed and filled out everything they needed to, and soon enough, after paying, of course, the puppy was being handed to them in a small box with a blanket.

They left the place with the puppy, and a set of dog tags, that had the number for the humane society and other information.

When they arrived home, they set the box on the floor in the living room and sat down in front of it. Santana carefully reached inside and pulled the puppy out, setting him in her lap.

"He's adorable," Santana said quietly, eyeing the curious and squirming puppy in her lap.

Quinn scooted closer to the Latina. "What should we name him?" she asked, petting the top of the puppy's head and watching his eyes close at the gesture.

"He could be a backwards puppy. Like Revor, instead of Rover, or Xam or Yffulf, or Tops," Santana began listing.

"Or," Quinn interrupted, trying to stop that train of thought. "We could give him a palindrome name, one that could be spelled backwards and forwards, like Otto, or Neven." She shifted, slightly, and the puppy's head flew to her, noticing the movement. Quinn pet his head again to reassure him.

"Or we could call him Anatnas."

Quinn snorted. "Or Nnuiq," she struggled to pronounce.

The sound of ice cracking from the fridge in the kitchen brought the dog's attention in that direction.

"We could call him Eye or Racecar or Madam."

"Yes, we should call our boy dog, 'Madam'."

Santana looked down at the puppy and scoffed. "I think it's a great name. Don't you, Madam?" The puppy looked back at her curiously, before his head snapped towards the door, where someone was talking as they walked down the hallway past their apartment.

Quinn giggled at how alert the dog was. "Santana stop, we are not calling him Madam."

"Fine. We could call him Level... or Kayak..."

"How about Radar?" Quinn asked, watching as the puppy relaxed once the voices grew quiet. Santana looked at her. "He seems to be very aware of his surroundings, and highly alert. I bet he'd sense if we were being robbed right away."

Santana looked down at the puppy. Quinn's suggestion actually made a lot of sense. "Yeah, he looks like a Radar. And you can spell his name backwards, so it works out perfectly."

Quinn smiled. "Alright, buddy, I guess you're a Radar. Welcome to the family."

Santana looked at the blonde and smiled.

Family.

"Yeah, Radar, welcome to the family."


	2. Charmed, I'm Sure

**Painting Our Own Picture**

Word count: 4,658

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I own Glee, the moon, Nebraska, the Smithsonian... All of it.

A/N: Woohoo! Seventeen reviews for the first chapter. I'm glad you guys are really enjoying the sequel so far. And your declarations of love make me blush ;)

This chapter was more of a gateway to what's coming up. It wasn't really filler, just because it was really important, but I'm really looking forward to the next couple of chapters.

* * *

Quinn blinked slowly as she woke up, letting out a small moan as she rubbed her face into the shoulder she was sleeping on and wrapped her arms around the body next to her. She felt soft lips press a gentle kiss to her forehead and smiled.

"How far away are we?" she asked.

"Only about half an hour. You really didn't sleep for long," Santana told her.

Quinn nodded. "How are you doing?" she asked.

Santana knew what Quinn was really asking. "Mostly okay. I guess I'm a reasonable amount of nervous to meet my girlfriend's conservative, Christian parents."

Quinn kissed her shoulder. "You have nothing to worry about. They accepted the fact that I was a lesbian."

"You said it took them a while, though. How long will it take for them to accept your Hispanic, lingerie model of a girlfriend?" Santana asked, apprehensively.

Quinn chuckled. "They're not racist, Santana. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Santana sighed. "I hope so."

"They will."

Santana grabbed Quinn's hand and began playing with her fingers. "How do you know?"

"Because I like you. And my parents created me, so some part of them would have to like you, too. Genetics," Quinn explained.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Are you sure you didn't major in biology?"

Quinn playfully hit Santana's arm, trying not to smile.

Suddenly Rachel turned around in her seat in front of them. "My dads said they could pick us up from the airport when we get there.

Brittany popped up as well. "Yeah, plus your parents invited us to dinner tonight."

Santana snapped her head towards Brittany at that.

"Us as in just you two?" Quinn asked.

"No, us as in the four of us," Brittany elaborated. "And since Rachel's dads are picking us up, they're coming, too."

No. No, no, no. Please God no.

Quinn shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

Santana tried to make her face look less pained as she glanced incredulously at Quinn, the blonde completely missing the look. Santana had enough to worry about. She couldn't do what she wanted to with a million people around.

"Okay, great!" Rachel cheered.

"Excuse me, but I need you two to sit down and face forward," the stewardess told Brittany and Rachel.

"Oh. Sorry."

Rachel and Brittany awkwardly sat back down, exchanging embarrassed looks. The flight attendant waited until they were all the way down before nodding and walking off. Quinn and Santana snickered.

* * *

Santana found herself being embraced by the two men she had met just seconds ago.

"It's so wonderful to finally meet the woman who stole little Quinnie's heart," Leroy Berry exclaimed.

Quinn's head whipped over to Rachel, sending her a desperate look. Rachel sighed. "Dad, daddy, you can her go, now."

Both men reluctantly released the Latina, giving Santana a chance to catch her breath.

"We're sorry, Santana," Hiram Berry apologized, rubbing her shoulder. "Just knowing that Quinn finally has a girlfriend, and a pretty one too, after being single for so long makes us excited."

"Not to mention one she admitted to loving," Leroy winked.

Santana chuckled and Quinn blushed.

"It seems like just yesterday they were in diapers," Hiram said, wistfully.

Rachel groaned. "Daddy, we didn't become friends until 8th grade."

"Give a man a break, Rach," Hiram said, before smirking. "Besides, we haven't even begun to tease you about the fact that you're dating little Brittany." He reached over and patted the taller blonde on the shoulder, causing Brittany's face to slide into a smirk that matched his.

"Oh, I can't wait," Rachel groaned.

The six of them soon found themselves in the car and on the way to Quinn's house, everybody's bags stuffed into the trunk. Rachel and Quinn sat silently sulking, while Rachel's dads continued to embarrass them in front of their girlfriends. Quinn refrained from pointing out that Rachel probably deserved it for teasing her in the beginning of her relationship with Santana. She figured she could use an ally.

When they reached Quinn's large, solid white house, the blonde felt her girlfriend tense. She slipped her hand into Santana's and smiled, giving it a squeeze. The Latina did her best to smile back, crawling out of the van behind Quinn and following her down the walkway and up the steps. She took a deep breath as Quinn knocked on the door, feeling like she was on a roller coaster that was just about to plummet down the track.

The door swung open to reveal a blonde man and woman, standing in the doorway.

"Quinnie!" Quinn's mother exclaimed, catching the blonde in a tight hug. Quinn chuckled and pried her mother's arms off as she stepped into the house, Santana following as closely behind as possible.

Once inside, Quinn's father wrapped his arms around the blonde and smiled. Quinn smiled as well. "Hi, daddy."

Quinn's father chuckled. "We haven't seen you in person in two years, and all you have to say is 'hi daddy'?"

"You know how hard I've been working on my studies. And New York is so far away. I couldn't afford it, and I didn't want to trouble you two with coming all the way over," Quinn explained. Santana noticed how Quinn wasn't telling the whole truth, eyeing the blonde skeptically. Yes, the blonde studied hard, but she had more than enough free time, and they could have been able to afford plane tickets together. Santana chalked it up to Quinn's parents being strict about that sort of thing, causing her uneasiness about tonight to increase ten-fold.

"You know it would be no trouble, Quinn. And since you've graduated, you should have more than enough time to come visit now," Quinn's mother spoke.

Quinn smiled and rolled her eyes. "Of course, mom."

"So, is this Santana?" Quinn's mother asked, causing the Latina to stiffen.

Quinn smiled and nodded, wrapping her arms around Santana's left one. "Yes, mom, dad, this is Santana, my girlfriend. Santana, this is my mom, and this is my dad," she introduced, gesturing to everyone.

Santana scanned their faces for any judgment, waiting for them to scrutinize her. Instead, they both just smiled. "Very nice to meet you," Quinn's father spoke, holding out his hand. Santana shook it.

Judy did the same, and again, Santana returned the gesture. "It's nice to meet you as well, Mr. and Mrs. Fabray," she told them. Quinn smirked at how polite Santana sounded.

"Please, call us Russell and Judy," Quinn's mother said, just as Brittany, Rachel, and her two fathers walked in.

The room was suddenly filled with the noises of excited reunion and recognition, hugs and greetings being exchanged between Quinn's parents and the rest of them.

Quinn pulled Santana to the side. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked, smiling gently.

Santana let out a breath and gave a little smile back. "I guess not," she told Quinn, causing the blonde to duck her head and press a quick kiss to her lips. "Although, I'm still expecting to find dead bodies in a closet somewhere."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

* * *

When dinner rolled around, the four couples found themselves seated at the dining room table, enjoying Judy's homemade linguini as they made small talk.

"So, Rachel, how is working on Broadway?" Judy asked the diva.

Rachel smiled politely, sitting up straight like she was being interviewed. "Just lovely. It's nice to know I'm finally accomplishing my dreams. Even though I didn't doubt that it would happen for a second."

The other three girls couldn't help but roll their eyes at Rachel's modesty.

"I admire your ambition. And I'm sure you've made a name for yourself in such a respectful business," Judy told her.

Santana sunk a little lower in her seat at those words. It's like they knew exactly what her job was.

"And what is it that you do for a living, Santana?" Russell asked, before taking a bite of his pasta.

"Oh, I'm umm... I model," Santana answered sheepishly. Why didn't she pick something that sounded practical when she was trying to figure out what she loved? Damn her good looks.

Judy and Russell simultaneously looked at the Latina when she mentioned her profession. "What, ah, what do you model for?" Judy asked, and Quinn mentally thanked God for having her parents gain some self-control over the years. The blonde knew that both of her parents would want her suitor to have a more ... constructive career.

"I've modeled for several major clothing lines and designers over the years. Marc Jacobs, Calvin Klein..."

"That's actually how Santana and I met," Quinn interrupted, hoping her parents wouldn't question Santana's job further. "She came in to model for my class and we totally hit it off."

Santana smiled. She figured that if nothing else, modeling brought her to Quinn.

"Really?" Russell asked, interested.

Santana nodded. "We went on our first date a couple of days later, and have been together ever since."

"Sounds similar to how Russell and I met. Although, he had to ask me on a date several times before I finally agreed," Judy chuckled.

Santana smirked and leaned into Quinn. "Like father, like daughter."

"I heard you two just bought a puppy together," Leroy brought up.

"Yup. A golden retriever/toy poodle mix. We named him Radar," Santana smiled at the thought of their little puppy back home. "He's being taken care of by Puck right now while we're gone."

Santana noticed Quinn pause and looked over to her parents, who were both a little stiff as well, at the mention of Puck. Well shit. Maybe she shouldn't have mentioned the boy who knocked her girlfriend up. Damn it. She had almost done absolutely nothing to screw up. Well, Santana figured, if anything, at least Quinn's parents couldn't hate her as much as Puck.

"You are still speaking with that Puckerman kid?" Russell asked.

"Yes, daddy. He's my friend, and he's excellent with the dog," Quinn told him.

"He got you pregnant, Quinn. He took advantage of you," Russell eyed her.

"We've had this discussion before. I knew what I was doing walking into that situation. And he apologized," Quinn said. "Unlike some people, I'm not one to hold a grudge."

"Lucy Quinn Fabray, watch your tone. I have every right to be worried about you and that boy," Russell defended.

Santana furrowed her brows at that.

Lucy?

"Oh my- Dad, I'm gay," Quinn pointed out, causing everyone at the table to eye her at her forwardness, even the other six people who were trying valiantly to stay out of the argument, and the four who had absolutely no correlation to it and were incredibly uncomfortable at the moment. "And Puck is different now. He's grown and so have I. I don't understand why this is still an issue for you."

"I don't understand why you still want to associate with that... degenerate."

"Russell!" Judy intervened. "Quinn is right. You've had and settled this argument before. You've even discussed this with Noah and have come to an agreement. There's no reason to bring it back up, nor to not have faith and trust that Quinn will make the right decision. And there is especially no reason to bring it up during a friendly dinner."

Russell looked at his wife, slightly taken aback before nodding and sighing. "I know. I'm sorry, Quinn. I do trust you, and I know you two have come a long way. I just worry about you."

"I know you do. But there really isn't anything to worry about," Quinn told him. "Besides, if anyone tries anything, I have Santana."

Santana smiled cheekily at the thought of how she cut down the last bitch that tried to make a move on Quinn. She also admired the way Quinn had totally changed the mood with that last sentence, carefully sliding away from the tense atmosphere.

Judy chuckled. "Well thank goodness for that."

And dinner proceeded comfortably from there.

* * *

When dinner was over, Russell, Quinn, Brittany and the three Berrys migrated to the living room while Santana hung back to help Judy with the dishes. Judy washed while Santana dried, staying in relative silence that Judy decided to break around the third dish.

"I'm sorry for Russell's behavior. I promise every family dinner isn't like that. He just wants to make sure Quinn is safe," Judy told the younger woman, getting straight to the point.

"No, it's fine. I get it. I shouldn't have mentioned Puck," Santana said.

"Well how could you have known?"

Santana looked over at Quinn's mother. "She told me. I should have assumed that it was probably a touchy subject."

"Quinn told you about her pregnancy?" Judy asked, surprised. "She must really like you." Santana eyed her, so the older blonde elaborated. "I mean, I know this is the longest relationship she's ever had, so she obviously likes you well enough anyway, but very few people know. She lost the baby very early on, so it wasn't noticeable, so only the people she confided in knew. You must be very, very important to her if she told you something so dear to her."

Santana, after soaking in every word Judy had said, didn't miss a beat. "She's a very important person to me as well," Santana sighed and spoke as honestly as possible. "She is the most important person in my life."

Judy stared at Santana for a long moment. The Latina did her best not to look away, regardless of how uncomfortable, because she was speaking the truth.

Judy exhaled. "Quinn is very lucky to have you."

"I'm the lucky one." Santana had to fight off a smile at how cheesy she sounded. She decided that this was as good a moment as any. "In fact, I was kind of hoping to talk to you and Mr. Fabray about that. About Quinn... and our relationship."

Judy looked surprised for a moment, before a knowing look crossed her face. "Just a moment." She walked over and pushed open the door connecting the living room to the kitchen. "Russell, can I see you on the porch for a minute?"

Russell gave her a confused look, but nodded, standing and walking into the kitchen. Rachel looked at Quinn, who seemed just as confused.

"What do you think that was about?" Brittany asked.

Quinn shrugged. "Probably what happened at dinner."

"Then why wouldn't Santana come out here with us?" Rachel asked.

"Maybe they want to talk to Santana..." Brittany offered.

Quinn's brows furrowed as she eyed Brittany. "Why would they do that?"

Rachel piped up. "Oh my gosh! Maybe they want to give her the talk! Like the 'don't even think about hurting out daughter' talk."

Leroy's eyes went wide. "Maybe Santana wanted to speak with _them_."

Hiram gasped and looked at his husband, understanding what he was getting at.

Rachel looked at them, confused. "Why would she want to do that?"

The Berry men shared a knowing smile before shaking their heads. "It's probably nothing," Hiram spoke up.

* * *

Santana started nervously wringing her hands as Judy lead her to the back porch with a hand on her back. Judy gestured to the chair facing an outdoor couch and Santana sat down, watching Judy and Russell take the larger white piece of furniture.

Santana felt her palms growing sweaty, the porch light feeling like a spotlight. She tried to swallow through the lump in her throat, taking deep breaths as Quinn's parents got settled. She could do this. She'd waited incredibly stupidly at night in Central Park for Quinn to show up in 40-degree weather; she could have one conversation with her girlfriend's parents. One very important conversation with her parents that would define her whole relationship.

"So, what is it that you wanted to speak with us about?" Judy asked.

Santana took another deep breath, trying not to suffocate herself. She had never done this. She had no idea how this was supposed to go, and had no prior knowledge about Quinn's parents to help her, other than they were pretty snobby and semi-strict, thanks to Rachel. Stupid Rachel.

"I-umm, I wanted to talk about Quinn." There. First sentence done. Let's try for another one. "As you guys know, we've been dating for over two years now, exclusively." She waited for their nods before continuing. She took one last breath, before pouring out her heart. "And I love her. More than I have ever loved anyone. She's my everything. I've been with her at her worst, and at her very best, and I still want a relationship with her. With all of her. The good things, and the bad. I can see us growing old together, having a family."

Santana tried to be open and honest. If she didn't sound sincere when she was talking about how much she cared about Quinn, she figured they wouldn't believe her. Santana had to bare it all.

Russell spoke up. "And how would you support this family?"

"I have a very well-paying modeling career. I earn around 800 thousand dollars a year, for both modeling seasons. And Quinn's looking for work right now," Santana answered.

Russell nodded, and Santana took that as her cue to continue. "And umm, she just- she means so much to me. I- I would never want to hurt her, yet I know it will happen, but we'll work through it. She'll probably hurt me too, but we'll learn to deal with it and we'll get past it, because she's so worth it. If she wanted to drop everything and move to Peru, I would follow her. If she went into a coma, I would stay by her side. I love her so very much. And I want to, with your permission," Santana looked at them and took a steady breath. "I would like to ask for her hand in marriage. To be my wife. To support her, and love her the way she needs to be loved, and to do everything I can to make her happy for the rest of her life." Santana let out a breath, shakily gripping her knee.

It was silent for a moment, the only noise coming from the crickets outside. Santana tried her best not to avoid eye contact and look around at the ever-growing darkness, feeling the weight of her words and the even heavier words that would follow from the Fabrays.

"And you feel that you will be able to support Quinn, and your family, financially or otherwise?" Russell asked.

Santana nodded immediately. "Yes... sir."

"And can you identify her needs, her struggles?" Judy asked.

Santana nodded to that as well. "Yes. Quinn can become... very closed off, and I understand that. I promise to work with her, and help her through it. She's a very insecure person, and if that means that if I have to spend every moment telling her how beautiful she is, I will. She isn't perfect, I know what I'm walking into, and I know she has many more faults, and I love her for them anyway, each and every one. I'm willing to look past them, and to help her if she needs it, and to forgive her."

"You feel you're ready to be a parent?" Judy questioned.

"Yes. I know I am. And I know that Quinn will make a lovely mother as well. Whether we decide to have children right away, or a very long time from now, I'll wait for when she's ready. And if she decides to never have children, we'll deal with that as well, because Quinn is the important part. Even if it's just Quinn and I, we'll still be a family."

Russell looked right into Santana's eyes. "Do you love her? Do you promise to love her regardless of anything that happens? Until death do you part?"

Santana maintained eye contact and nodded, speaking with conviction and certainty in her voice. "I love her more than anything else in this world. I love her despite her faults. I love her for her ambitions, for her love of art, for her sense of romanticism, for her intuition and intelligence, her integrity, her passion, her humility, her compassion, her understanding, her humor, her heart. I love her when she has a cold, when she has food poisoning, when she's annoying, or when she gets irritated. I love her when she's lonely. I love her when she's tired. I love everything about her. I'm not sure there has ever been anyone more perfect, anyone more made for me than Quinn. I will love her until we're both old and frail. I will love her even when death will do us part. She's my artist, and I am her model. My other half. I am ready to paint a portrait with her. In fact, I already have. Quinn is the love of my life, and I promise I will do everything within my power to make sure that she knows exactly how much I love her."

Judy and Russell exchanged a look after Santana's long rant, their faces unreadable. Santana folded her hands in her lap, knowing that these next words could mean everything to their relationship. She waited with bated breath for their answer.

The couple finally looked back at Santana and the Latina stopped breathing altogether.

Russell's eyes looked right through Santana's pupils and into her soul.

"Yes."

Santana sucked in a breath. "Y-yes?"

"Yes," Judy smiled.

"O-oh my God," Santana let out an incredulous laugh.

"You obviously love Quinn very much, and it sounds like you two will make a great family," Russell told her. Santana felt tears swelling in her eyes. "We're trusting you with our daughter, Santana. Don't mess it up."

Santana let out a watery chuckle. "Of course not. I understand the weight of both of those statements, Mr. Fabray. I promise I will take care of your daughter."

"I told you that you can call us Judy and Russell," Judy smiled.

"Right. Thank you so much. I promise I won't disappoint you two," Santana said, eagerly.

"We know," Judy smiled. "Welcome to the family."

Santana felt a tear roll down her cheek as she stood and bent down to hug them both. The Fabrays chuckled and returned the awkward hug.

When the three of them returned to the living room, Quinn immediately took note of Santana's red face and glared at her parents. "What did you say to her?" she demanded.

Santana chuckled and took a seat next to her girlfriend, pressing a kiss to the blonde's cheek. "They didn't say anything."

Quinn turned to the Latina. "Then why are you crying?"

"I just... really, really love you. More than anything," she responded, pressing a kiss to Quinn's lips.

Santana couldn't contain her giddiness. This girl was about to become her wife. She felt her heart swell with love for the blonde. It was only a matter of time, now.

And Quinn was none the wiser. She eyed Santana skeptically before shaking her head and dropping it, turning back to her conversation with Rachel. Santana smiled and kissed Quinn's temple.

* * *

Around nine thirty everyone decide to head home. After bringing Quinn and Santana's bags in and everyone saying goodbye, the Berrys got in their car to take Brittany home and then drive back to their house.

Right as Quinn and Santana started to head up stairs, Russell's voice interrupted them. "Quinn we have fresh sheets in the guest room for Santana."

Both girls turned around and gave Quinn's parents 'come on' looks.

"Dad..." Quinn spoke.

"You know the rules. No boyfriends... or girlfriends sleeping with you in your room," he reminded her.

"That was when I was in high school. We have an apartment together now!" Quinn argued.

"And while you're in our house, you two will be sleeping separately. We'll be upstairs at eleven to check on you two," Russell announced.

Quinn groaned and stomped up the stairs, Santana soon following. Quinn threw her door open and plopped down on the bed.

"Your parents do know we're having sex, right?" Santana asked.

Quinn lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. "I haven't specifically told them, but I'm sure they assumed."

Santana joined Quinn on the bed, cuddling up to the blonde's chest. "Well, I'm sure one night won't kill us."

Quinn groaned, but nodded. "Hey, what did you guys talk about out on the porch?" she asked, looking at the Latina.

Santana smiled and closed her eyes at the feeling of Quinn's fingers running through her hair. "Just how much I love you, and how I promised to not hurt you."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "So my dad gave you 'the talk'?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Well," Quinn sighed. "I'm glad you made it out okay."

Santana nodded and snuggled closer to Quinn, sliding up until her head was in the crook of the blonde's neck. "What do you think we should name our kids?" she asked.

Quinn looked down at her and then back up at the ceiling. "I don't know. Quinton and Quinn Jr."

Santana snorted before remembering something. "Hey, why didn't you tell me your real name was Lucy?"

Quinn shrugged. "Because that's not really my name."

"It's the name on your birth certificate," Santana pointed out.

"Yes, but I liked Quinn better. I see myself as Quinn. And I want you to see me as Quinn, too. It's not like it was a secret, it's just... who I am," Quinn explained.

Santana nodded, deciding to accept her answer and not press any further. "I do see you as Quinn. But you make a lovely Lucy, as well."

Quinn smiled and kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Santana Diabla Lopez. So, very much."

"I love you, too, Lucy Quinn Fabray. More than anything."

* * *

Santana continued to toss and turn, feeling wildly uncomfortable with each passing minute. She hadn't slept alone in over two years. Quinn had even followed her on tour for a little bit. She didn't realize how much she would miss Quinn's warm body next to hers.

Santana sighed and got up, carefully padding across the carpet, and opening the door as silently as possible. She tip-toed across the hallway and opened Quinn's door.

She saw the blonde wide-awake, arms folded across her stomach, staring at the ceiling. Her head snapped to the door once it opened. Seeing Santana, she felt her heart swell. "Can't sleep?" the blonde asked.

Santana crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the doorway. The Latina shook her head.

"Me neither."

"Want to come over to the guest room?" Santana asked quietly.

Quinn nodded and sat up, climbing off the bed and following her girlfriend to the other room. She watched Santana get settled in the bed and joined her, intertwining their legs. They laid, face-to-face, noses brushing as they cuddled up close, gently falling asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

Russell and Judy sat in the living room watching the fire in the fireplace as a peaceful silence took over the living room. Judy was cuddled into the man's side, a protective arm wrapped around her.

The silence was just barely broken when the heard a door creak open, and footsteps padding along the floor upstairs. They listened with soft, reminiscent smiles on their faces, knowing exactly what was happening. Another door opened, and whispers were exchanged before two sets of footsteps traveled to the guest room and a door closed before a peaceful silence once again, engulfed the house.

"They're a lot like us when we were that age," Judy pointed out.

Russell nodded. "I know. That's why I know I can trust her with our daughter."

Upstairs, Santana traced circles on Quinn's stomach under her shirt, her mind racing with proposal ideas, and ring shopping. She kissed the nose of the sleeping blonde in front of her, admiring how peaceful and calm she looked. She was going to marry this woman.

"I can't wait to make you my wife," Santana whispered.

* * *

A/N #2: Can you guys tell that a proposal is on the horizon? Two chapters away ;)


	3. Niente

**Painting Own Own Picture**

Word Count: Almost 4k

Rating: T to M-ish. Maybe.

Disclaimer: I bought the rights to Glee so I could take over the show for the next two seasons.

A/N: This chapter may not flow as well, just because I've had insane writer's block, like the kind where you don't feel motivated to write. At all. And I'm sorry, but I guess I lied. There's one more chapter before the proposal; I had to change some things around plot-wise.

Thank you for all of your wonderful reviews, follows and favorites. Titanic is 11th in the most reviewed Quinntana fics, so thank you so much for that.

To those of you upset about Santana proposing, I would like to point out that this is a backwards story. Things don't always work out the way they seem like they will ;)

* * *

**One month later**

Santana laughed as she watched Brittany bounce around in her seat.

"Propose! You're going to propose!" Brittany cheered, doing a little dance in her seat.

"Yeah, B," Santana said, smiling. "That's actually why I need you with me. The address I gave to the cab driver is for the jeweler's."

Brittany gasped, smiling. "You want me to help you pick out a ring."

Santana smiled and nodded.

"Santana!" Brittany exclaimed, leaning over and engulfing the Latina in an awkward, sitting hug. "Quinn's going to be so happy!"

Santana nodded. "I hope so."

Brittany pulled back. "She will be! She really wants to get married."

"Has she talked about it?" Santana asked.

"No, but she talks about you. You, and wedding dresses, and babies... and Quinn hasn't mentioned babies since the one she lost in high school," Brittany told her.

"Well, first things first. A ring," Santana stated.

Xxx

Quinn looked at the picture of her smiling and holding her diploma, looking every bit as successful as she felt.

"I like this one," she said, showing Rachel the picture. "It makes me look... accomplished."

Rachel sifted through more of the developed photos sitting on Quinn's dining room table. "Well, I think I'm sending all of them to your mother. We could get that one framed. Although, I really like this one," she said, handing a photo to Quinn.

Quinn flipped it over. It was a picture of Quinn and Santana wrapped up in each other, Santana's hands gripping the collar of Quinn's gown as they shared a sweet, yet passionate kiss. It was intimate, to the point where Quinn was sure that if she squinted, it would look like they were alone, the tender kiss being shared in the privacy of their home. It had to have been after Quinn received her diploma, because she recognized the muted proud look on her face, and she realized that this was the calm before the storm; the soft moment before Santana plagued her with arousal.

Quinn nodded, finally. "I think you're right. We should frame this one and hang it up."

Rachel laughed. "Right. We can hang it right next to the picture of you and Santana lying together, right in the middle of the living room."

Quinn blushed, slightly, before shrugging it off. "We look hot."

"And you look sheepish," Rachel pointed out, causing Quinn to blush, before adding, "but it is a nice touch. Very beautiful."

Quinn smiled. "Thanks, Rach."

Rachel smiled and continued to look through the photos. "You have an interview today, right?"

Quinn nodded, swallowing and trying to quell how anxious she felt. "Yeah, at 4, why?"

Rachel shrugged. "Just checking. Do you think you're ready?" she asked.

"I don't- no. It's the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Rach. It's- It's where I belong," Quinn sighed. "I'd give anything to work there. To be surrounded by beautiful paintings and artwork, to feel like... I'm at home."

Rachel smiled. "I love hearing you talk about art. I've never seen you so passionate about anything. Except probably Santana."

Quinn laughed. "Art to me, is like Broadway to you."

Rachel straightened her back, mimicking a haughty appearance. "Except I already have Broadway," she joked, causing both of them to laugh.

"You're a brat," Quinn told her.

"And you're a bitch," Rachel shrugged, before a sincere expression took over her features. "I'm sure you'll do great. They'd be idiots to pass up someone as in love with art as you are. They have no choice but to accept you."

"God, I hope so."

Xxx

Santana's enthusiastic smile at finding the perfect ring soon faded when the jeweler gave her the price. She narrowed her eyes at him and begrudgingly pulled her checkbook from her purse. Scribbling furiously on it, she tore the cheque from the book and handed it to the man.

"How fast can you get it to me?" she asked.

"We'll have it here in about a week." At Santana's exasperated look, he spoke again. "We do have to resize the ring and put in the center stone."

Santana sighed and nodded. She obviously couldn't take the ring home right now. She just couldn't wait to finally do it. To be Quinn's forever.

Santana smiled at the man who handed her a receipt and a paper with a pick-up date. Eight days. She could wait eight days to hold the ring.

Brittany and Santana exited the store and headed to the nearest coffee shop. They ordered their drinks and picked a table near the back.

"So... wow," Brittany said, leaning back and letting out a breath. "You're really gonna ask her."

Santana nodded and smiled, a feeling she could only describe as pure happiness and excitement sinking in. "I really am."

"She's-you're- you guys are getting married!" Brittany exclaimed, empathizing with the Latina. Santana giggled at her reaction. "This is so exciting! I mean, I figured we'd all get married eventually, but it's weird to see it actually happening. And I honestly didn't think Quinn would be the first. Even when you guys moved in together, I just assumed you'd stay girlfriends for a long time. You don't seem like the type."

"The type?" Santana questioned, lifting her coffee cup to her lips.

"To settle down. To make yourselves unavailable to anyone else for the rest of your lives."

Santana's smile softened. "I'm okay with that. With being Quinn's and only Quinn's for the rest of my life. I don't see myself ever getting tired of being with her. And I like the thought of knowing she's mine."

Brittany smiled. "You're so cute."

Santana shyly ducked her head. "What?"

"When you talk about Quinn. You get this faraway look on your face and the most genuine smile. I don't know if you know this, but you, Santana Lopez, have found the love of your life."

Santana felt like laughing and crying at that thought. It was a simple statement, but it held so much truth. She found her other half.

The Latina was about to say something when the feeling of her phone vibrating startled her. She fished it out of her coat pocket and checked the number.

Santana chuckled to herself. Speak of the devil.

"Hey baby," the dark-haired girl answered the phone. She saw Brittany smile and wink, and she rolled her eyes.

"Hey, umm, where are you?" Quinn's voice croaked out. Santana frowned. The blonde sounded small and upset and very unlike her usual confident-yet-clumsy self.

"Lexington Avenue. In Starbucks. Why?" Santana asked, sitting up. She looked over to Brittany, whose eyebrows were furrowed at Santana's concerned expression.

"I need you to come get me."

"I don't have my car," Santana replied. "Can you get a cab?"

"No, San- I- I didn't get the job. They picked the other girl," she heard Quinn choke out.

Santana's eyes widened. "Oh my God, Quinn I'm so sorry. I know how important this was to you."

"I need you to come get me and take me home." Santana could tell Quinn was losing the battle against not breaking down, and suddenly this felt urgent.

"Okay, okay," Santana said reassuringly, standing up. "I'll be there soon, I promise."

"Okay..."

"Love you, bye."

"Love you, too, bye."

Santana hung up the phone and looked at Brittany, eyes frantic.

Brittany rolled her eyes and waved her off. "Go pick her up. I'll take a cab. Tell Quinn I love her."

Santana nodded. "I will. Thanks Britt."

"See ya," Brittany called after her as Santana sprinted out of the coffee shop.

The Latina only felt mildly guilty about only having coffee for about five minutes with Brittany, but her main focus was on Quinn. She hailed a taxi as she slipped her coat on, quickly sliding into the backseat. She gave the driver the directions and sat, tensely, gripping her phone.

Quinn had wanted the job so badly. She must have been devastated. One of her first job choices was to work at a museum or an art gallery. And while there were many others, Santana knew how in love with the Metropolitan Quinn was, if their frequent trips to the museum were anything to go by.

Santana could only imagine all the things running through the blonde's mind right now, the emotions flooding in. And God knows how insecure about her own abilities this would make Quinn feel.

The ride wasn't that long, and Santana soon found herself in front of the Metropolitan, chucking a five dollar bill at the driver and hopping out of the taxi. She took a look at the large building and immediately caught sight of the blonde, broken and standing alone in front of the tall building, looking every bit as small as the Latina was sure she felt. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself to keep warm as she quickly wiped her eye.

Santana's heart broke at the sight as she quickly walked up the steps to Quinn. Quinn's eyes locked on the Latina and the blonde immediately let out a sob. Santana held open her arms and Quinn fell right into them.

They stood there like that for a long moment, breathing each other in as Quinn silently let more tears fall.

This was her dream job. It was where she belonged. Where was she supposed to go after this? Everything would end up paling in comparison.

Santana sighed into the blonde's hair. "I'm sorry I wasn't here; that you had to wait all by yourself."

Santana felt Quinn shrug and let out another puff of air. "Let's get you home."

Xxx

Santana helped Quinn peel off her dress and bra, and did the same before dragging the both of them to the bed.

Santana went first, and for the first time in a very long time, she was the one to hold the blonde while they were in bed. Quinn sniffled as she snuggled close to the Latina, feeling slender arms wrap around her upper back.

Quinn didn't know what to say. How to put into words what she was feeling. She had wanted that job for so long. To be surrounded by iconic art, to be able to spend every day admiring art and revisiting classics.

"I didn't get the job," Quinn finally said.

The blonde let out a sob. She couldn't remember the last time she didn't get something she knew she had earned. This was everything. Art was everything. Inspiration. What was the alternative?

"There's always-"

"I don't want another stupid museum, Santana. Nothing will ever be the Metropolitan."

Santana sighed and kept her comments about Quinn maybe overreacting a little bit to herself and let the blonde let it out. She pressed a small kiss to the top of Quinn's hair.

"I really wanted that job."

Santana nodded. "I know."

Quinn sighed. "Everything else sucks compared to the Metropolitan."

"I know."

"I really wish you were there."

Santana let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry."

Quinn nodded and cuddled closer to Santana's chest. "I know." A new thought rushed to the forefront of Quinn's brain. "What am I going to say to Rachel? To Britt? To my mom? Everyone was so sure I was going to get it. I'm going to look like a failure," Quinn sobbed.

Santana shook her head. "No you won't. I don't think just because some bigoted airhead picked some other idiot girl, that everyone would think differently of you. And God knows you're not a failure. You graduated college, Quinn, at the top of your class. You're an art major. Your last painting sold for seven thousand dollars."

"Seven-thousand five-hundred," Quinn cut in.

Santana chuckled. "Let me finish. Your last painting sold for seven-thousand five-hundred dollars. And you managed to win over the sexiest girl on the planet. I don't see how any of that makes you a failure."

Quinn smiled, hidden below Santana's chin. "Somehow, even when you're supposed to be comforting me, you manage to compliment yourself."

Santana shrugged. "It's an inevitability. I have a hard time finding a conversation where my looks don't come up," she said, before becoming serious again. "One poor job interview isn't the end of the world, Q. And, knowing you, if you get over it and get back out there, you'll have a job in no time. I've never seen you give up on something important to you."

"I've let you walk out before," Quinn pointed out, gravely.

Santana pulled her closer. The topic of Quinn's jealousy and lashing out was still a sore one, despite both girls having forgiven each other. That night at Mercedes' party had been the only time they had ever broken up.

"I needed the space, Quinn. You didn't do anything wrong. At least, not in that decision."

Quinn reveled in the closeness and comfort Santana was providing, especially when they were talking about a time when Santana had rejected such a thing. "I am sorry about that."

"It's been two and a half years. We've gotten past it, Quinn."

Quinn nodded and sighed, finally feeling cried out. "I didn't get the job," she said, exhausted.

Santana sighed as well and pressed another reassuring kiss to Quinn's forehead. "No, you didn't. But you'll keep looking, and you'll find one that you'll like even better at a place that you'll love even more, and you'll forget all about this. You'll be incredibly successful, too, and you'll be forced to let me say I told you so."

"And everyone and their dog knows you'll use every opportunity to rub that in my face," Quinn groaned.

"Damn right," Santana stated. "Now do you want to continue to sulk, or have comfort sex?"

Quinn snuggled closer to the breast that she now realized was there, bare and voluptuous and up close.

Screw the Metropolitan, THIS, right up against Santana's breast, was where she belonged.

Quinn nodded slightly and Santana smirked, amused by Quinn's attention towards her chest. "It wasn't a yes or no question. Do you want to- Ahhhh!" Santana cut herself off when she felt teeth grip her nipple and tug gently.

So, comfort sex it is.

Santana rolled over on top of Quinn and quickly slid her hand down Quinn's body, entering her swiftly with two fingers. She held Quinn close as the blonde jerked and writhed, responding differently to each of her ministrations. Quinn came, screaming, loud and high-pitched, as Santana curled her fingers, reveling in the sensation of Quinn slick, warm walls tightening around her fingers.

Santana slid out of the blonde, licking her fingers before cuddling up to her girlfriend. Quinn smiled in her post-coital state and ran her fingers through silky, dark tendrils.

Yeah, this, this was home.

Xxx

After weeks of Quinn sulking, and Santana, Rachel and Brittany constantly assuring her that she wasn't a failure, the blonde finally sucked it up and started job-hunting again. She started to paint again as well, while Santana would go off to photo shoots, she'd paint and bat the dog away from her while he tried to sniff the paint on her easel. It wasn't until about a month after the Metropolitan rejected her that Quinn found another job opening. At the Agora Gallery on 25th, near their apartment.

Santana smiled as she buttoned Quinn's blazer, while she was still only in a t-shirt and underwear. She noticed how tense Quinn was and brought her hands down to grip the blonde's.

"You'll do great. Just relax, sweetie. They'd be idiots to pass up an artist like you," Santana told her.

Quinn's eyes widened. "Don't say that."

"What? Why?"

Quinn shook her head. "That's what Rachel said before my last interview. Santana!"

Santana looked at the blonde incredulously. "Okay, I take it back. Damn. I guess they'd be idiots to choose you," she said, rolling her eyes.

Quinn sighed. "I know, I'm sorry. I'm being ridiculous, I'm just nervous."

"Don't be. You'll blow them away. I promise."

Quinn looked into her eyes and nodded.

"I love you, Quinn. More than anything."

"I love you, too, Santana. So, so much."

Just as they embraced, they felt something land on their feet as the sound of dog tags rattled, no doubt from the excessive tail-wagging that was sure to be happening. Quinn smiled and pulled away from Santana, bending down and playfully rubbing the dog all over.

"Hey, buddy! Did you come to wish me good luck, too?" she asked, causing Radar to pant happily. "I'm sure you did! I love you, too, boy." She said, enthusiastically scratching between his ears before standing back up and checking her watch. "Okay, I'm gonna head out," she said, blowing out a breath.

"Okay, good luck, baby. I'll see you right after. Rachel and I will take you to go out and get ice cream," Santana told her.

"What about Britt?" Quinn asked.

"She has to be at rehearsal, but she told me to wish you good luck, and she promised she'd take you out to coffee another time to make up for it."

Quinn nodded. "Okay."

Santana nodded, too, feeling scared and nervous for Quinn. "You'll be great."

Quinn smiled at her. "Thanks."

Xxx

Santana and Rachel sat in Santana's car parallel parked at the curb while they waited for Quinn. It had been an hour so far and Santana was getting restless trying to figure out why Quinn wasn't out yet. This had to be good news, though, right? At least the blonde wasn't dumped on her ass.

"This is good, right? They're probably discussing plans and whatnot. Tell me this is good," Santana said, twisting her hands on the steering wheel.

Rachel nodded and spoke patiently. "The longer an interview takes, the better it is. I'd be concerned if she had walked out half an hour ago. This means things are probably going well."

Santana let out a deep breath. "Okay, good. Because I was hoping, now that the job drama might be behind us, and school is over for her and things have kind of been going well, that it might be a good time to propose," she semi-announced.

Rachel's head whipped over to look at her, eyes wide. "What?"

Santana nodded and smiled. "Yeah, I have the ring. I'm gonna propose to her."

"You can't do that!" Rachel blurted. Santana gave her a very confused look, so Rachel attempted to cover it up. "I mean, uh, you should wait a while. Like, a couple more months. Quinn needs things to be comfortable. Once she's settled and things have been consistent for a while, then you should propose. Better safe than sorry."

Santana eyed her and Rachel shrugged. "Are you sure?"

Rachel nodded firmly. "Positive."

"Oookay..."

"Oh, look, Quinn's coming," Rachel pointed out.

Santana looked through the rear-view mirror to see Quinn walking quickly to the car. She couldn't read the blonde's face from this angle, so she waited, rather impatiently, for the blonde to hop in the car.

When Quinn reached the car, she eyed Rachel in the front seat before rolling her eyes and taking the back. Rachel and Santana immediately spun around to face the blonde staring at her expectantly.

"Yes?" the blonde inquired.

"Sooo...?" Rachel asked.

"Did you get it?" Santana added.

Quinn stared at both of them, feeling their eyes burning into her. Santana sat patiently, worried the blonde might say no.

Quinn let out an elated laugh, and nodded. "I got it!"

The car erupted in screams.

"You have a job!" Santana exclaimed. She leaned at an awkward angle towards Quinn and the artist met her the rest of the way, connecting their lips and sharing a congratulatory kiss.

"Okay, not so close to my face," Rachel said, mildly disgusted by the proximity.

Quinn smirked and pressed a sloppy kiss to Rachel's lips before pulling away. "I'm fucking employed. I can do whatever the hell I want."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "So where to Miss Employed?"

"To ice cream!"

"To ice cream!" Rachel and Santana cheered back, as Santana turned on the ignition and drove away from the curb.

Xxx

Santana drew patterns on Quinn's stomach, under her shirt while she and Radar cuddled up to the blonde from different ends.

"So I guess I'll be the one visiting you at work now," Santana mused, softly. "I can come watch you explain paintings and work exhibitions and give tours."

Quinn smiled. "That's true. And who knows? Maybe one of my paintings will be displayed eventually."

"There's no maybe about it. I'd be surprised if we finished off the year without one of your paintings hanging in the gallery," Santana told her.

"Well, I'm just happy that I found a job doing what I love. "

"And you're okay that it's not the Metropolitan?" Santana asked.

Quinn nodded. "It's not my dream job, but it's definitely a good one. At least I have a job right now. The future isn't set in stone, so maybe in a couple years I'll move up, and the people at the Metropolitan will be begging for me to work with them."

"Yeah, won't they be sorry."

Quinn smiled at the adorable Latina lying on top of her, hesitating before speaking up. "I think I want to be a curator."

"A curator?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'd still paint and draw and make art, but I think my ultimate goal is to, after this, become a curator for a museum. I think I'd be good at it," Quinn mumbled.

Santana looked up at the blonde. "You don't have to be embarrassed. I think that sounds like a perfect job for you. You have great taste in art. And it's probably wise to get some experience like working at the gallery under your belt beforehand. But there's no doubt. If you want to work as a curator, you'll get there."

"You really think so?" Quinn asked, shyly.

Santana rolled her eyes. "God, for someone who claims to have been an HBIC at her old high school, you sure are unsure of yourself," she said before adding, "and I know so. You're an incredible artist Quinn. You'd no doubt be a wonderful curator as well."

"Thanks, Santana."

The Latina nodded before snuggling back up to Quinn's chest. "Now I don't know about you, but I have a big day ahead of me, tomorrow, so I needs some sleep."

Quinn chuckled. "Oh please. Modeling doesn't trump art... gallery... working..." Quinn struggled.

Santana giggled. "Is that what it says on your name tag?"

Quinn scrunched her eyebrows. "It will now," she stated.

"Okay Miss Art Gallery Worker, sleepy time, now."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Yes, your Majesty."

Silence engulfed the room as both girls started to drift off to sleep. Quinn was almost pulled under when Santana voice roused her.

"Oh yeah! Quinn?" she inquired, as if she just remembered something.

"Yes?" Quinn grumbled.

"I told you so."

And Quinn wouldn't live that one down for weeks.


	4. He Does Landscapes

**Painting Our Own Picture**

_Word count: about 3k_

_Rating: Definitely M. NSFW. There is a lot of nakedness in this chapter, guys._

_Disclaimer: I own Glee and the Titanic. This is actually part of the script for the next Glee episode. Spoiler alert!_

A/N: To a guest: Yes all of my chapter titles are lines from The Titanic.

Joylinda: Nothing bad will happen yet. At least, not until a royal proposal has been made ;)

Quinntana2: I love you, too ;)

To everyone: Yes, Rachel is acting really suspicious. Girl can't keep a secret.

And Vonnuit: Thank you for pointing out that the acronym of the story title is POOP. Really appreciate that. But you're so cute, and soft it all makes up for it, you teddy bear, you! ;) And I'm glad I infuriate you. It's a part of my Charm and our whole dynamic. Love you, wifey.

Anyway, thank you guys so much for your lovely reviews, follows, favorites, etc. It's very inspiring to hear your feedback and you guys should know that I love all of you. This chapter was obviously very heavily inspired by the drawing scene in Titanic... So, here you go!

* * *

**Two Months Later**

Quinn carefully unlocked the door to their apartment, trying not to jingle the keys too much as she turned the lock. She quietly opened the door and crept inside, shutting it softly and trying to adjust to the darkness filling the living room. The blonde set her purse and keys on the couch before making her way to the bedroom, tiptoeing and mentally begging the floorboards not to creak.

Quinn gently turned the handle to the bedroom door; slowly, carefully. When the handle was fully turned, Quinn tugged it delicately, wincing as the door creaked, begging it wouldn't wake her sleeping girlfriend. When the apartment stayed silent, she blew out a breath and took slow steps into the bedroom. She spun around and pushed the wooden door until it clicked shut.

Suddenly a light flickered on, causing Quinn to gasp and spin around to face the source of light. Her eyes landed on a fully awake Santana, sitting in the armchair facing the door, hand still touching the lamp sitting on the table next to her.

The blonde brought a hand to her heart, letting out a breath. "My God, Santana, you scared me."

Santana eyes the blonde from her position in the armchair, legs tucked under her, arms folded over her chest.

"You're late. Again."

Quinn's features immediately turned apologetic. "I know. I'm so sorry. Roxy-"

"Your boss," Santana acknowledged.

"Right, she asked for help on the new exhibition, and time got away from us. I didn't realize it was so late until Rachel texted me about... something," Quinn tried to cover poorly. "I'm sorry."

Santana sighed. "You promised you'd come home at a reasonable hour tonight, Quinn. You haven't been home before 10 for the last three days."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You've already said that."

"I know... I'm sorry..."

Quinn watched her girlfriend's expression switch to incredulous, and then furious. The blonde immediately spoke up to stop herself from being lashed out at. "But I requested tomorrow off and Roxy agreed," she told the Latina.

Santana's features immediately softened. "So... a three day weekend?"

Quinn chuckled and nodded. "Yup. For the next three days, I'm all yours."

Santana shrugged. "Please, you've always been mine. You have been for the last two years, and you will be for the next three," she said, standing up.

Quinn chuckled. "_Only_ the next three years?"

Santana walked over to the blonde and looped her arms around Quinn's neck. "Yup, and then I'm dumping your sorry ass."

"Well, then I guess I'd better start saving up. Without you to support me, I'm broke."

Santana laughed. "Thank God you got a job then."

"Mmhmm. Speaking of which. I was wondering if you would do something for me tomorrow," Quinn brought up carefully.

Santana eyed the blonde warily. "What?"

"I was hoping... maybe... I could paint you. Wearing the necklace I gave you for our last anniversary."

Santana nodded slowly. "Okay..."

Quinn swallowed and placed her hands on Santana's hips. "Wearing ONLY the necklace I gave you."

Santana's eyes widened in realization before she smirked. "Alright. You know, you _have_ seen me naked, before. You don't have to be so nervous," she chuckled. "So what's the painting for?"

"We're having an auction at the gallery. Roxy said she wants to see if I live up to the standard my recommendations have set. If it's good enough, she said she'll put it in the auction," Quinn explained.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Please. Of course it'll be good enough. It'll be better than good enough, because your painting will have _me_ in it," The Latina's smirk grew even wider.

Quinn mimicked Santana's eye roll. "Well, damn, if it weren't for your modesty I'm not sure why I would ever fall in love with you in the first place."

Santana shrugged. "I'm irresistible. You would have found something."

"Anyway," Quinn deterred the conversation from _that_ direction. Santana's ego didn't need any more of a boost. "You'll do it?"

Santana brought her hand to her face to scan her nails, feigning nonchalance. "I might have to check my schedule. I _am_ a very busy woman, you know."

Quinn nodded, playing along. "True, but I'm worth it, so I'm sure you can move some things around."

Santana eyed the blonde, mildly surprised. "Well, look at who's full of modesty, now."

"It comes off of me in waves. As the next Da Vinci, I have to practice my modesty early on to impress my adoring fans."

Santana recoiled from Quinn, pretending to be disgusted. She turned away from the blonde. "Oh my God, now you sound like Rachel. You two might as well be twins."

Quinn wrapped her arms around Santana from behind. "Yeah, but Rachel doesn't want to fuck you senseless." The blonde bent forward, slightly, nipping at the shell of the Latina's ear.

"I- I wouldn't be so sure about that," Santana stuttered, trying not to succumb to the idea of being pleasured.

"Face it, Lopez. You're so turned on right now."

Santana shook her head slightly, unable to find a rebuttal. She couldn't deny that she missed the blonde during her late night shifts, and the idea of being close and intimate, especially when she had a proposal on the tip of her tongue, was beyond appealing.

Santana, swallowing her pride, spoke up, her voice barely making it above a husky whisper. "Can we- bed?"

Quinn suppressed her smirk at the Latina's behavior and nodded into her neck, before pushing Santana onto the bed, crawling on top of her, and rolling her hips.

"Yeah. We can- bed."

Santana moaned as Quinn ground down on her ass, her core pressing against the mattress deliciously. The feeling of Quinn's body pressed up against hers sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her core.

Quinn reached down and pulled Santana's pajama shorts down around her calves. She gripped the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head and tossed it to the ground. Quinn lowered herself back onto the Latina and moaned out loud at the skin-to-skin contact. Santana's ass felt... glorious.

Santana closed her eyes at the feeling of Quinn rubbing herself against her, reveling in her arousal as Quinn spread her wetness across her ass. She gripped the sheets as her pussy made direct contact with the bed now, the comforter brushing against her clit and her dripping center. Before fully succumbing to the pleasure, Santana's eyes shot open.

"Wait, did you show up to work without panties on?" Santana asked.

"So... mmh... Not important, Santana. Fuck..." Quinn forced out as she sped up her rolling hips. She placed a hand between Santana's shoulder blades for support, closing her eyes as she fell forward slightly. The feeling of the soft skin of Santana's ass bouncing as she picked up her pace only spurred her on further, pressing harder against Santana, moaning loudly. "Shit... Santana, I- I need- mmh, oh God."

Santana moaned. "What do you need, Quinnie?" She whined out as her chest was being pressed into the bed.

"Y-you... I n-need you..." Quinn groaned out, removing her hand from Santana's back and lifting her hips.

Santana got the message and rolled over however awkwardly due to the shorts around her thighs. Quinn lowered herself back onto Santana's thigh letting out a small whimper at the contact.

Santana looked up at the girl above her, desperately rolling her hips forward, a light sheen of sweat covering her skin; her mouth dropped open slightly, eyes glossed over and staring absently at the comforter as she focused on the pleasure. Santana felt Quinn's thigh brush against her center and pushed out a breath, trying to remember to actually breathe every once in a while. Quinn was so hot like this, lacking any inhibition, just wanting to be close to Santana, any thought left being pure primal instinct.

Santana was so distracted by watching Quinn that when she was roughly entered with three fingers, it was a shock to the system, causing her to cry out loudly and arc her back. She tried desperately to adjust to being filled so quickly, Quinn's fingers starting a very slow rhythm. Santana gripped Quinn's back for purchase as the blonde continued to ride her thigh.

When Santana finally did adjust, the pace Quinn had set was agonizing. She spread her legs as wide as those _damn_ shorts would allow, before gripping Quinn's arm and forcing her to go faster. The two girls writhed against each other as they thrust their hips in tandem, Quinn doing everything she could to keep Santana steady so she wouldn't get thrown off. They continuously increased their speed, the headboard slamming against the wall as they grew closer to their orgasms.

Santana felt Quinn's fingers brush the spot that made her see stars and she broke. Her body arched and flew up to a sitting position, she released Quinn's arm and re-wrapped both of her arms around Quinn's shoulder blades, burying her face in the crook of Quinn's neck, letting out loud cries of pleasure. Quinn reached around with the hand that wasn't deep inside Santana and gripped the back of the Latina's sleep shirt.

Santana felt tears spring to her eyes at the feeling of being so close to her orgasm and so close to Quinn. Even through her focus on her impending climax, she knew she would never get tired of this… of being so intimate with the blonde. She felt a soft, yet sort of clumsy, kiss being pressed to her temple and she was sent over the edge.

"FUCK! Oh my God, Quinn!" Santana screamed into the blonde's neck, her orgasm taking over, the sensation of the built up tension releasing, spreading throughout her center, removing her lower body from her control.

Santana pulled away from Quinn's neck and looked into the blonde's eyes, automatically sending Quinn right over the edge. The pleasure didn't stop as Quinn screamed, staring into her eyes as her own pleasure ripped through her body as well.

Both girls' hips jerked in staggered motions as they tried to comprehend the feelings flooding through their system. Santana reached up and pulled Quinn's head to hers, connecting their lips in a desperate kiss as the continued to ride out the aftershocks, trying valiantly to draw their orgasms out longer.

They continued the kiss well after their orgasms subsided, moving their lips in tandem and holding each other; loving and just _being_.

* * *

Quinn took a seat on the high stool, laying out her paint and paintbrushes like surgical tools. She carefully placed each one in its place, before adjusting her easel and looking up to see Santana walk into the room.

Santana pulled the clip from her hair, releasing her hair into cascading curls over her shoulders and down her back. She looked into Quinn's eyes as she parted her robe, revealing caramel skin and a necklace with a gold chain and a medium-sized blue stone with a silver Q + S embedded in it, resting in the dip between her breasts. Her heart was pounding as she slowly let the blue, silk robe fall to the floor.

Quinn's jaw still didn't fail to drop at the sight of the naked Latina, after all these years, so willing to bare herself in front of her. The blonde watched Santana's chest heave, and her hazel eyes rose to look into dark-brown, dilated ones, a smirk playing on her girlfriend's lips.

Santana broke the eye contact, walking over to the divan. "Tell me when it looks right to you," she said, before settling onto the piece of furniture, stretching out like a cat and throwing her arms over her head.

"Uh... Just bend your left leg a little and..." she watched as Santana did what she was told before continuing. "Lower your head. Eyes to me. That's it."

Quinn took a shaky breath before picking up a paintbrush. She swallowed as she brought her brush to the paint. The blonde's eyes traveled over to Santana. When she realized that the Latina was staring right at her, she dropped her brush.

Santana laughed at Quinn's nervousness. "I believe you are blushing, Miss. Big Artiste. I can't imagine Monsieur Monet blushing," she teased with a smirk.

Quinn picked the brush back up, dipped it in paint, and shakily brought it to the easel. She stared at the Latina above the easel, under her lashes. She allowed a small smile to tug at her lips, despite the sweat that was beginning to form on her brow.

"He did landscapes."

Quinn's expression then grew serious as she brought the brush to the canvas. Her eyebrows drew together as she slipped into a professional state-of-being. Santana felt like she would never forget this image of Quinn, the look on her face as she entered into a zone of pure focus that she only obtained when drawing. The way she looked was something Santana would carry with her for the rest of her life.

Despite Quinn's nervousness, she drew with sure, strong strokes, time getting beyond her while she was so determined; an hour passing, then two. She watched as she filled the easel with hues of many colors, a tan body gliding across the picture, curves being defined, features being outlined. Her eyes flitted from Santana and to the paper and back, both girls holding their breath, one to sit still, and the other to keep her hand steady.

What emerged upon the easel was what Quinn could only describe as the best thing she had ever done. Santana's pose was languid, her hands beautiful, her eyes radiating energy and pure, unadulterated lust. She leaned closer to her paper as she conveyed all that she could in Santana's face, trying as hard as she could to obtain the real thing.

Their hearts were pounding in sync, the whole time, despite the good 7-foot distance between them. Both girls felt they could only describe the moment as one of the most erotic in their entire lives. Silence took over the room, the intimate importance of the moment finally, fully, and completely grasping them, one thought engulfing the minds of both girls.

_ This is the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with._

Half an hour later, Quinn carefully drew her last stroke, before setting her brush down. She pushed out a breath, feeling her body relax as she was finally finished, her frayed nerves stabilizing.

She noticed movement on the couch and watched Santana stand up, having caught on to what Quinn's relieved posture meant. The artist watched as her model walked over to the fallen robe, licking her lips as the Latina bent down to pick it up, giving her a wonderful view of her ass.

Santana smirked, her back facing Quinn, knowing exactly what she was doing to the blonde. She tied the belt to the robe before turning around and facing Quinn.

Quinn raised her hand, beckoning the model with her finger. Santana complied, striding across the room and sitting on the blonde's lap in front of the easel. She felt two slender arms wrap around her waist and she smiled, placing her hands on top of Quinn's.

Santana gazed at the painting, eyes flitting across the canvas, tracing every corner. She saw herself, laying elegantly along the divan, staring right at her, necklace lying softly above her breast. Every color, every shape, every outline was spot-on. Once again, she was convinced that she was staring at a picture of herself in one of Quinn's paintings. She came to one conclusion as she stared at pure perfection.

Quinn had X-rayed her soul.

She felt Quinn's head come to rest on her shoulder as she finished observing. "What do you think?" Quinn asked.

"I think you should date it, Quinn. I want to remember this day, this exact day, and what I was feeling," Santana said, continuing to stare at the painting.

Quinn side-eyed the Latina, surprised at the seriousness and sincerity her girlfriend had felt about the last couple of hours. She nodded, slightly, and reached for a pencil, lying in her array of utensils. She leaned them both forward a little bit and carefully wrote the date:September 9th, 2016.

Quinn lowered her hand and scribbled her signature along Santana's left hip. She straightened back up and placed the pencil back on the table. "There," she whispered in Santana's ear.

"Can we keep this after it gets showcased?" Santana asked.

Quinn smiled. "And put it where? Next to the other one of us lying naked? I'm not sure I want everyone who comes into our house to know all of the different times we've gotten naked."

"I don't care about anyone else. _I_ want to be reminded of all the times we've gotten naked," Santana replied.

Quinn snorted at that before quickly sobering. This moment meant something to the both of them for some reason; it went beyond what it had before. They weren't Santana and Quinn. They were model and artist. They were torn down to their very being, their very connection, their very feeling… a feeling more intimate than any other. A feeling that changed them, and only happened when they came together as just model and artist. A feeling that was the bare definition of whom they were and what they were doing together. Painting their own picture.

Quinn smiled and pictured them in another life, on the stern of a boat somewhere in the middle of the ocean; arms outstretched, bodies pressed tightly together, pure love being conveyed...

And she started to sing.

_Come Josephine in my flying machine, going up, she goes..._

* * *

A/N #2: Next chapter is the proposal ;D


	5. A Whore To A Gutter Rat

**Painting Our Own Picture**

Word Count: Over 3k

Rating: Probably T

Disclaimer: I think we all know by now that I own Glee.

A/N: Yay, the proposal! I tried really hard to get this out before I would have to break for finals, which start tomorrow, so I'm being a horrible student right now, not studying.

Thank you for your wonderful reviews, follows and favorites. Your guys' support astounds me.

Anyway, here's chapter 5, for Dianna's birthday :)

* * *

**October 15th, 2016**

Santana sighed when she found the bed empty again. Quinn didn't necessarily work early shifts, so why she wasn't in bed at 5 am, again, was frustrating. The Latina moaned and rolled over, swinging her legs over the bed, to the floor, and stood up unsteadily.

Santana walked into the kitchen, tiredly, smiling only as much as her dry lips would allow when Radar perked up and ran over to her. She gave him some love, bending down and scratching between his ears. His eyes closed in appreciation, making the Latina smile.

"Hey boy! Are you hungry?" Santana asked, watching the dog immediately start to get excited, jumping slightly, tail wagging. "Hungry? Yes you are! Let's get some food!"

The brunette reached into the cupboard and grabbed the dog food, pouring a reasonable amount into the bowl and watching as he enthusiastically dove for it. She chuckled and put the bag away.

Turning to the fridge to grab some Milk for cereal, she noticed the note pinned to the freezer door.

_ Hey baby!_

_ I'll be with Rachel if you need me._

_ ~Quinn_

Santana eyed the conciseness of the letter. Quinn usually went into a little detail about where she was and what she was doing. Why does she think 'with Rachel' cuts it?

Santana took a deep breath and blew it out her nose. It was _five fucking am_. She was probably just irritable. It wasn't unreasonable for her to be upset though. Quinn was her girlfriend-soon-to-be-fiancée; she had a right to be worried about where she was.

Santana shook her head and walked into the living room, grabbing her phone. She was just being paranoid.

Trying to reassure herself, Santana dialed Quinn's number and listened as it rang.

On the third ring, Quinn picked up. "Hey baby, I'm kind of busy right now, can I call you back?" she greeted, her shouting hard to hear over the various voices and sounds happening on that end.

"No. What are you doing? Why's it so loud? Where's Rachel?" Santana started asking, trying to make sense of what Quinn was doing.

"Rachel's right here, come here Rachel, say hi to Santana," Quinn rushed. Santana didn't miss the way she avoided the other two questions.

"Hi Santana!" Rachel's cheeriness was hard to hear over the noise.

"Hey Rach, where are you guys?" Santana asked.

"I- uh, we're-umm... we're at the gallery," the girl on the other end stuttered.

"That doesn't sound like the gallery."

"Oh believe me, it is."

"Why are you guys there at 5am, though? It's not even supposed to be open today, is it?" Santana asked.

"Well, I-uh... I've gotta go. Here, talk to Quinn again!" Rachel said.

"Hey," Quinn started as the phone was handed back to her.

"Quinn, what-" Santana was cut off by the sound of something loud falling near her.

"Damn it!" she heard the blonde say. "Here, let me take you into another room." Santana heard people laughing, and the blonde saying shut up before everything went silent. "There, okay, what do you need?"

"Where are you?" Santana asked, walking back into the kitchen and hopping up, onto the counter.

"The bathroom," Quinn said.

"No, I mean, like where are you? Rachel said you're at the art gallery, but isn't it closed today?" Santana asked.

"It is..."

"What aren't you telling me, Quinn?" Santana asked sternly.

"Nothing! We're just helping my boss with a project," Quinn tried to reassure her.

"Has this project been going on all week? Because you've been working late hours, and going out at weird times... I don't think you're cheating, because you're with Rachel- although that would be... _wanky_- but I want to know what's going on, Quinn."

Santana heard Quinn sigh. "Can I take you on a date tonight? To make up for my absence? And then I could show you what we're doing at the gallery," the blonde offered.

"Well, not if it's going to pull you from your precious project," Santana spoke, surprising herself with how that came across.

She heard Quinn chuckle. "I insist. I could take you to Divicci's, I know you love their breadsticks. And then after I can show you what this new exhibit is gonna look like."

Santana sighed and smiled. "Sure, Quinn."

"Great! I'll pick you up at eight!" Santana could feel the excitement and giddiness through the phone.

The Latina chuckled. "Alright. Tell Rachel I'm okay with you cheating on me with her, but if I find out you slept with anyone else, I'll whip both your asses."

Quinn laughed.

* * *

Santana had just finished curling her ponytail into little ringlets when she saw Quinn appear in the doorway to the bathroom through the mirror.

"I love that dress on you," the blonde said, giving Santana a once over. "Red is so your color."

Santana smirked and smoothed down the red, strapless, curve-hugging dress.

"You're one to talk," she said, walking over to Quinn, eyeing the baby blue dress. She gripped the edges of Quinn's cardigan and pulled her in for a kiss.

Quinn smiled as they pulled away. "Ready to go?" she asked, breathlessly.

"To spend time with my absent wife? Hell yeah. Let's go!" Santana explained, releasing the blonde's cardigan and gripping her hand.

The Latina didn't make it far though, because Quinn was frozen in her place, pure shock crossing her features. Did Santana just say-

"Quinn, are you coming?" Santana asked, squeezing the blonde's hand.

Quinn tried to shake herself out of her stupor. But Santana wanted it, too...

Quinn blinked a couple times before nodding, pure elation soaking in.

Tonight was about to be incredible.

* * *

Quinn chuckled as Santana ordered extra breadsticks for their table, thanking the waiter as he left.

The blonde smiled at the Latina when Santana's attention went back to her. Santana leaned forward slightly, crossing her arms over the table. Quinn tried quell her nerves and excitement and arousal, because really, Santana was hot.

"Your hair looks beautiful," Quinn spoke softly, admiring the curls wrapped tightly in Santana's ponytail.

Santana eyed her, smirking. "So that look you're giving me, it's because of my hair?"

"And some of your... other features," Quinn smirked, giving the Latina a once over. Santana's smirk grew bigger, appreciating Quinn's boldness tonight.

"Well, I've already said it, but you certainly picked the right dress tonight," Santana told the blonde.

Quinn raised an eyebrow as Santana looked her up and down as well, her eyes lingering on her chest. Well if eternity meant being looked at like _that_...

"So did Roxy put your painting in the exhibition?" Santana asked, attempting to start up a casual conversation.

Quinn looked at her. "What? Oh! Oh yeah, she umm, she said she really liked it, so... probably," Quinn replied.

"Wait, you don't know if it got accepted?" Santana asked, knowing there was something she wasn't being told.

"No, I mean—"

"Then what were you doing at Agora?" Santana asked, skeptically.

"Working on a project, I told you," Quinn answered.

"And what was Rachel doing there? Really Quinn, you aren't telling me something—"

"One chicken Parmesan, one shrimp tortellini, and two extra orders of breadsticks," the waiter announced as he came and set down their dishes. "I hope you two enjoy. Is there anything else you need?" he asked with a friendly smile on his face.

Quinn let out a breath, completely happy with the distraction. "No, thank you, we're all set."

The waiter smiled and nodded before walking away.

Quinn immediately turned to Santana and switched topics. "Do you remember the first time we came here?" she asked, a soft smile on her face.

Santana narrowed her eyes at the blonde, surprised at the sudden change of topic, yet knowing exactly what Quinn was doing. She sighed and released her suspicion, giving this one to the blonde.

"Yes, Quinn," she said, exasperatedly. "On our backwards date."

"On our _first_ backwards date," Quinn pointed out, happily.

Santana let out a little chuckle at Quinn's exuberance. The blonde was literally glowing, but the Latina was unsure as to why Quinn was bringing this up.

"You _finally_ let me take your stubborn ass on a date, even though we both knew you wanted it, because face it, I'm a charmer," the blonde said with a wink.

"Yeah," Santana said, taking a bite of one of her breadsticks. "Why on earth did I do that?"

"Because even then we were meant to be together," Quinn told her. She reached out and grabbed the Latina's hand, lacing their fingers. "And I've never been more grateful that you gave me a chance. I've never been more happy to be with anyone in my entire life, Santana."

Santana's expression softened. She really didn't know what was going on, or why Quinn was suddenly so serious, so soft, but she wasn't going to complain over Quinn's sudden romantic mood. "I am so glad you walked into my art class that day, Santana. I don't want to know what my life would be like without you in it."

Santana felt her eyes grow slightly moist at that statement. "How did we go from me being mad at you for lying to me to me wanting to cry at how romantic you're being?" she asked. "Really though, where is all of this coming from?"

Quinn chuckled. "I'm not lying. I told you I'd show you what I've been doing once we got to the gallery. I'm trying to be romantic, Santana. Relax, and let me keep romancing you."

Santana smiled and sighed. "Fine, go ahead," she gestured for the artist to continue.

"I just- really love you, Santana. I don't know how you managed to fall for some art student when you could have anyone, but I wouldn't dare complain. You're this incredible, wonderful, beautiful, talented woman, and I am so lucky to have in my life, to wake up to every morning. I love everything about you. From your constant, infuriating teasing, all the way to the way you eat things in sections. I love holding your hand, and kissing your cheek, and hugging your body. I can't- I don't even know what to say, because none of it covers how I feel about you," Quinn struggled to explain.

Santana gave the blonde's hand another squeeze, encouraging her to continue, her suspicions growing even bigger now. Quinn took her to a fancy restaurant, where they went on their first date, and was trying to explain how much she cared for her. Santana didn't want to read too much into it, but maybe...

"I love everything about you," Quinn repeated. "You are so strong-minded and confident. You're compassionate and loving and loyal and supportive. You are so smart, and self-aware, and filled with knowledge of the people around you. You're cheeky, and flirty, and teasing, and frequently, irritatingly cocky. Like, I'm worried if your head gets any bigger it might explode. But I love your sense of humor, and self-assurance. You don't take no for an answer and you are so incredibly faithful to everything you aspire to be and everyone you care about. You're spontaneous, surprising, and exciting. You're a wonderful friend, and girlfriend, model, lover, dog-owner... I admire everything about you. I am so very grateful that you chose me, Santana, that I was the one who stole your heart. I don't want anyone but you. I adore you, I care about you, I want you, I am fond of you, I fancy you, I cherish you, I am devoted to you, I yearn for you, I need you, and I love you."

At this point both girls had tears in their eyes, Their food long since forgotten. Santana had never felt more loved, or in love with anyone than in this moment. Quinn had never wanted to spend the rest of her life with someone other than Santana.

"I love you, Santana. So very much. I love everything about you," Quinn finished, her voice cracking.

Santana's jaw sat, slightly ajar. She couldn't think through the emotion flowing through her right now. She desired Quinn, more than anything else. She didn't want a life without her.

"Quinn, I—"

"No, Santana," Quinn interrupted, a watery thickness filling her voice. "Don't say anything. Tonight's about you."

Santana furrowed her eyebrows, her mouth still poised to say something. She struggled to not force words to come out of her mouth, sighing and closing it, nodding her head, deciding not to question.

Quinn smiled and lifted the hand she was holding to her lips, pressing a small kiss there. "Can I take you to the gallery now?"

Santana looked into Quinn's eyes and nodded.

* * *

Quinn smiled as the taxi pulled up to the gallery. She paid the driver and crawled out of the cab, holding her hand out for Santana to take and shutting the door behind the Latina. Santana smiled as she linked their arms, following Quinn's lead toward the building.

The blonde swallowed. This was it. Two years of waiting for this moment. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears. She was ready to do this. Ready to make Santana hers. Forever.

Quinn took a deep breath and pushed open the door, letting Santana go first. The Latina stepped inside and immediately saw herself staring back at her above the receptionist's desk. Right there in the front of the gallery was Quinn's painting, as beautiful as the day it was painted.

"Quinn..." Santana whispered. Quinn grabbed Santana's hand as the Latina spoke. "Roxy accepted your painting. I-it's right in the front of the gallery."

Quinn nodded. "It'll be the first thing anyone sees when they walk in."

Santana stepped closer to the painting, admiring Quinn's incredible work. She made her look beautiful… as more than some model. She made her look like Santana, from the soft expression on her face, to the color scheme resembling warmth, comfort. Quinn made Santana look like the love of her life. She couldn't help but fall in love with the painting all over again, even though she had seen it before. "Beautiful..."

Quinn watched Santana admire the painting with a loving smile on her face. "Yes you are."

Santana's head snapped back to Quinn, and she rolled her eyes lovingly. "You're so..."

"Romantic? Charming? Lovable?" Quinn offered.

Santana chuckled. "All of the above," she said, pressing a quick kiss to Quinn's lips. "But mostly cheesy."

Quinn chuckled as well, nervousness easing into her laughter. She felt her chest tighten with emotion. Santana looked so content, so happy, and so free. And it was all because she was with Quinn. This carefree, loving version of the Latina was something Quinn knew she was the only person who got the chance to experience. Quinn was so in love with this woman.

Santana's eyes suddenly narrowed, and Quinn immediately knew what Santana had noticed. Santana's brow furrowed, her eyes widening slightly. "Quinn, is that... a _ring_?" Santana asked, referring to the diamond ring sitting on the finger of the Santana in the painting. "How did- when did you paint that?"

"Come on. I want to show you something," Quinn said softly.

"But-"

"Please, Santana, come with me," Quinn pleaded.

Santana nodded, feeling herself go into a state of shock. She knew what this had to mean, but it's like her body wouldn't react, wouldn't fully understand the magnitude if what was happening. She wasn't sure she was breathing as she used Quinn's hand as her anchor as she was pulled into the first room of the gallery.

And Santana's jaw dropped.

Filling the room, in place of the regular contemporary art paintings hanging up, dozens of pictures were replaced with various versions of Quinn, and the words 'Marry Me.' Every picture had a Quinn, whether drawn, painted sketched, or colored on with crayon. Some she could tell were done by Quinn, the words written in the blonde's loopy handwriting, others she figured were painted and drawn by Quinn's artist friends, some were even photos of Quinn holding a sign that said marry me, smiling and excited, blown up to fit in the frame.

"Quinn..." Santana choked out.

"We spent all week setting this up, and creating the pictures, which was a pain in the ass, but everyone knew how important this was," Quinn explained.

"Quinn..." Santana said a little higher, a little louder this time.

The blonde spun the Latina around to face her, looking into the Latina's watery eyes. "Everyone knew how important you were to me."

"_Quinn_," Santana spoke her name a third time, finally breaking down as the first tear fell.

"Santana, I love you... _so_ much. I love your cocky, infuriating, frustrating, self-absorbed, hot-headed, teasing, playful, sweet, kind, wonderful, amazing, beautiful, incredible, heart-stopping self. I can't breathe when I'm around you. You make my heartbeat twice as fast, no matter where we are of what we're doing. I've never felt this way about anyone. I've never loved someone so much that I would be willing to cuddle with them, even when they're sick and snotty, or support them if they decided to become a sanitation worker. I've never been so proud of someone, so happy to be with them, to be near them. I've never wanted someone so badly, wanted to own a house, a dog with them, to start a family with them. I want all of that and more with you, Santana. I want to say forever and mean it. I want to be yours forever, and I want you to be mine, because we're soul mates, model and artist. Santana and Quinn."

Quinn reached into the pocket of her dress that Santana hadn't even _noticed_, and pulled out a little black, velvet box. Santana let out a sob, feeling the tears stream more rapidly, now. Quinn released Santana's hand, opened the box, and then re-took her hand, caressing her fingers.

Santana held her right hand to her mouth as more delighted sobs forced their way past her lips. She gazed through watery eyes at the white-gold, princess-cut, three stone ring, with a diamond in-set. It looked exactly like she pictured it would.

Quinn ducked her head slightly, her watery eyes meeting Santana's and maintaining contact.

"I love you, Santana Diabla Lopez. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to make you my wife. Will..." Quinn took a final, deep, shaky, breath, a small smile slipping across her lips. "Will you marry me?"

Santana was nodding the minute Quinn said the word 'love'. She let out a loud sob at the question.

"Yes, yes, yes..." she answered repeatedly, like a mantra, looking into Quinn's eyes as more sobs wracked her body. Two years. Two very Long and trying years to get to this. It was so worth it.

Quinn let out a joyful laugh and brought Santana's lips to hers in a passionate kiss. They pulled away from each other as Quinn pulled the ring from the box, carefully positioning Santana's finger as she slid the ring onto it.

"Damn it, Quinn," Santana finally spoke. "I was supposed to do this first. I hate Rachel for making me put it off."

"You hate Rachel for letting me propose to you?" Quinn asked, incredulously.

Santana felt a burst of love at that. "You proposed to me..." she said softly, another tear falling down her cheek. "We're getting married..."

Quinn nodded and let out a watery laugh. "We are. You're going to be my wife."

Santana looked right into Quinn's eyes, conveying everything she was feeling. "I love you, Quinn. More than anything."

"I love you, too, Santana," Quinn replied. "So, so much."

"We're going to start a life together..."

Quinn smiled and shook her head. "We already have. Painting our own picture, remember?"

Santana nodded and pressed another kiss to Quinn's lips.

That night, Quinn and Santana went home and spent the rest of their night re-memorizing each other's bodies, defining passion and love, bringing each other to the brink over and over again, each time feeling themselves fall in love even more. Caresses were soft, lips were gentle, aspiring to make love, to be intimate with one another, in a way that no one else would be able to. They writhed and cried out their lovers' name, exclaiming their love, no inch of skin being left untouched, left unloved. Painting adoration and affection on the canvas of their bodies, they started a new piece of artwork. One that meant finality.

One that meant forever.

One that defined them as artist and model. The painter and the painted. Lovers, and yet the ones being loved.

The Titanic really should have prepared them for this.

* * *

A/N: I am unfortunately putting this story on a short hiatus– long enough for me to finish off the semester. I'll probably start back up 2 or 3 weeks from now. Sorry about this :( But my first exam is tomorrow, so wish me luck!


	6. You Wouldn't Last Two Days

**Painting Our Own Picture**

Word count: 2700-ish

Rating: T (and it'll probably stay that way for a couple of chapter :P)

Disclaimer: Glee's mine, and I officially announce that the show will be solely focused on Quinn and Santana from now on.

Spoilers: Sandra Bullock sings Get Low to Betty White in The Proposal and Scarlett Johansson and Penelope Cruz make out in Vicky Cristina Barcelona. Oops.

A/N: I am soooo SO sorry. I know I promised 2-3 weeks but so much has happened since I last updated, and life basically kicked me in the mouth and I could not keep up with it for a while. Plus, I broke my hand a couple of weeks ago, which made it a lot harder for me to write, and my appendix burst last Saturday, so even as far as things go medically, it's been awful. Also, I'm really sorry that it's gotten to the point where Anons are pestering Daisy on Tumblr.

But I should be able to update more frequently now, though I don't want to make any promises. And I feel bad, because this chapter is really just paving the way for the next few that are coming, but hopefully you still like it, even if you think it wasn't worth the wait.

And I want to give a shout-out to Boringsiot for deciding to read the sequel. Waking up and seeing your reviews and reading them totally made my day, so thank you so much. And yes, devastatingly is a word, and I'm well aware of how much you like my ratings ;)

Thanks to all of you as well, for reading, reviewing, following, favoriting, etc. I reached 100 reviews last chapter, woohoo! But again, your support is astounding and always appreciated.

Wow, that may be the longest Author's note I've ever written, really sorry about that. But this chapter starts something I'm really excited for: The Sex Bet. So, here ya go!

* * *

Three Weeks Later – November 5

Quinn and Santana stood in the doorway of Brittany and Rachel's new apartment, which was only three doors down from theirs. Santana had her arm wrapped around the blonde's waist as they watched Brittany set the last box on the floor in the living room.

"And we are finally moved in!" Rachel said excitedly.

"I don't think it counts when you haven't opened a single box, Rach," Quinn told the petite brunette.

"But all of our furniture is set up," the diva argued.

"That argument makes no sense. You have boxes sitting in your living room," Santana pointed out.

"Details," Rachel brushed it off. "The point is, we'll be sleeping here tonight."

"Well, there won't be much sleeping happening," Brittany added grinning at Rachel as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to the diva's lips, wrapping her arms around the smaller girl's waist.

Quinn groaned, moving out of Santana's embrace to take a seat on the couch. "Please save it for later."

"But keep it down," Santana added. "I don't want to have to file a complaint for the first time."

"Please, you guys go at it like rabbits," Rachel said as she and Brittany broke apart from the kiss and took the love seat adjacent to the couch.

"And we were the epitome of quiet," Santana said.

Brittany snorted. "I could hear you two in the next dorm room over. You were anything but quiet."

"That was a year and a half ago. We're much better at being quiet now," Santana defended.

"Oh, so the thrill went down?" Rachel smirked.

Santana scoffed indignantly. "The thrill did not go down! We've just had a lot of practice."

"It must feel nice to have the tables turned then, huh?" Brittany's smirk now matched Rachel.

"Okay, this is not why we're here," Quinn said, effectively ending the argument. She looked at Santana once everyone was silent and they both smiled. "We have news for you guys."

"Yeah, yeah, you guys are engaged. Congratulations," Rachel said. "It's not exactly news. I helped plan the proposal."

"Please, tone down the excitement, Rachel," Santana deadpanned. "We had _other_ news we wanted to give you."

Both girls gestured for the soon-to-be brides to continue. Quinn smiled. "Rachel, would you be my Maid of Honor?"

Rachel's eyes widened, for a moment, obviously caught a little off-guard. "You-?" she shook her head and smirked, effectively hiding her shock. "I can't say I'm surprised," she drawled.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Ha-ha. Just accept the offer before I change my mind."

Rachel chuckled and smiled genuinely. "Yes, Quinn. I would love to be your Maid of Honor."

"Oh yeah, sure. We've been best friends since we were 3, but you know, I guess sandbox love does die," Brittany said, only half-joking.

Quinn scoffed and opened her mouth, about to respond. Santana chuckled and beat her to it. "I called you first. Quinn wasn't fast enough," she told the blonde dancer. "But Brittany, will you be _my_ maid of honor?"

Brittany's pout immediately faded and she nodded enthusiastically. "I can't _wait_ to plan your Bachelorette party!" she exclaimed.

Rachel stared at Quinn with wide eyes. "So I was what? Your second choice?"

Quinn's eyes widened and she looked away, starting to flush. "Of course not, you were- I- This is not important right now, what _is_ important is that you're my number one, Rach. My maid of honor," Quinn tried to cover.

"I'm obviously number two, according to you and Santana," Rachel said, crossing her arms.

"Alright, short stack, I said Brittany before Quinn could even finish the question of our maid of honors," Santana said, before switching directions. "We're going to have the wedding in August, so about nine months away. You have all that time to plan the bachelorette parties, prepare yourselves for whatever panic attack Quinn will have, and help plan pretty much everything."

Quinn rolled her eyes at the end of Santana's explanation. "But for now, today, get _officially_ moved in, have 'yay, we just moved in!' sex, and then we'll start the real wedding planning in about a week. Sound good?" Both girls nodded and Quinn smiled. "Thanks, guys. We're glad to have you as a part of our wedding."

Rachel and Brittany smiled back, deciding not to tease the blonde for going soft. "No problem, Q, we're glad to be a part of it," Rachel told her. "Now get out so I can ravish my girlfriend."

Santana rolled her eyes. "I was just about to suggest leaving before all of this sappiness made me throw up. Come on, Quinn," the Latina said, standing and taking Quinn's hand. Quinn chuckled and stood, letting Santana lead her out of Rachel and Brittany's apartment.

As they headed to their apartment they heard loud giggling, before a door slammed, and both girls shook their heads at the noise, both ignoring that fact that that's exactly how they were almost every night.

Quinn squeezed Santana's hand in front of her and held the Latina back while she opened the door and entered first. Santana gave the blonde a questioning look as she entered after her. Quinn leaned forward and shut the door behind Santana before giving the Latina a smirk as she pushed her up against the door.

Santana gave a smirk that matched Quinn's when she felt the blonde's lips press against her own and her back hit the wood. She threw her arms around Quinn's neck and felt the blonde's tongue slip past her lips. Sucking on Quinn's tongue, she felt a hand grip the edge of her dress. A moan escaped Santana's lips as the blonde's fingernails grazed her upper thigh. She clutched onto Quinn's back and pulled away from the blonde's mouth, gasping for breath as that hand slid higher. Santana held her breath when Quinn's hand reached the fabric of her lace panties at the top of her thigh.

Suddenly a loud barking erupted in the room, causing both girls to jump and pull apart. They both looked down to see the slightly bigger retriever-poodle puppy barking at them, unsure of what exactly they were doing.

Quinn chuckled deprecatingly and buried her face in Santana's shoulder, removing her hand from underneath Santana's dress. "So much for a quiet dog."

Santana ran her fingers through Quinn's hair, pulling her up to look into her eyes. "Should I be concerned by the fact that you got turned on by our friends getting their sexytimes on?"

Quinn's eyes narrowed as she scoffed. "I was _not_ turned on by Brittany and Rachel having sex."

Santana wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck. "Sweetie, everything turns you on."

"It does not!" Quinn whined, growing defensive.

"Right, so we _aren't_ having sex every night?" Santana asked, sarcastically.

"I don't _need_ sex, Santana," Quinn argued. "I went ten months without it before we started dating. You _never_ keep it in your pants."

Santana chuckled. "You pinned me to a _door_, Quinn."

Quinn pulled away from the Latina with another scoff. "You've pinned me to countless doors, Santana," she countered crossing her arms over her chest. "Hell, you seduced me the first day we met."

Santana raised her eyebrow and smirked, smoothing her dress over. "Are you suggesting that I get more turned on than you? That I need sex more than you do?"

"Well, if the shoe fits," Quinn sing-songed, sticking her tongue out at Santana before turning around.

Santana stared at Quinn for a long moment before chuckling incredulously.

"Alright, Señorita Abstinence, wanna bet on it?"

Quinn spun around and eyed the Latina. "Like what? Who can go without fucking the other the longest?"

Santana nodded, her smirk growing. "We don't have sex until the wedding. If one of us caves and begs the other for it, or tries to fuck them before then, they lose."

Quinn hesitated for a moment. She wasn't very well-known for having self-control. But she was known for her pride, and she wasn't just going to relegate her dignity to Santana.

"What's the matter, Quinnie?" Santana teased. "Scared you're gonna lose?"

Quinn's eyes narrowed. It was so on.

"I'm just scared for your sake, Santana. Hate for you to die from sexual frustration," she smirked, taking a step closer to the Latina.

Santana took a step closer as well.

"Just state your terms, Fabray."

Quinn leaned in, to where their noses were touching, both girls' hands now resting on their own hips.

"Winner gets to name our first child."

Santana leaned back only slightly, just to where their noses were but a centimeter away. Quinn didn't discuss children very often, and rarely was she ever serious. This implied that the blonde was indeed expecting children.

"Are you serious?" Santana faltered.

"Definitely."

Santana's smirk grew as large as Quinn's, both girls thinking the same thing:

It was _so _on.

"You've got a deal, Fabray."

"Bring it, Lopez."

They both stared each other down for a long moment, neither backing down. Not a soul moved, not even Radar, sitting on the floor five-feet away, watching the interaction.

Santana wasn't about to back down. She had a steel resolve... up until Quinn started leaning in. Santana's eyes widened as Quinn's fluttered, before she smirked. Quinn was hopeless.

Santana started leaning in as well, but right as her lips brushed Quinn's, the blonde sucked in a breath and pulled away. Santana's eyebrows scrunched up at the action and Quinn smirked.

"You're too easy, Lopez," Quinn threw over her shoulder as she turned around and headed into the kitchen.

Santana's eyes narrowed as she scoffed.

That bitch!

She followed Quinn into the kitchen and let out a low chuckle. "Oh Quinnie... silly, silly Quinnie," She teased, crossing her arms over her chest. "I really do hope you don't think you're going to win..." Santana watched as Quinn smirked at her, rolling her eyes, before turning around and grabbing a cup from the cupboard to pour the remaining coffee from this morning into. Santana quickly stepped behind Quinn placing her hands on the blonde's hips. She pressed her lips right against Quinn's ear. "Because you and I both know that I am nothing, if not an amazing seductress, and you, Quinn Fabray, will be going down faster than your panties can hit the floor."

Santana punctuated the statement by sliding her hands to Quinn's lower stomach and gently sucking on her earlobe.

A low, throaty chuckle escaped Quinn's lips as she set the cup down and gripped the counter. "You totally underestimate me, Santana. I'm just as good at the art of seduction as you are..." she spoke slowly. She felt Santana's teeth tug on her earlobe before she gripped Santana's wrists and spun in the Latina's hold, spinning Santana as well. Santana found herself pressed up against the counter fast than she could blink. "If not better."

Santana faltered under Quinn's smoldering gaze, knowing that underneath that confident exterior, Quinn's pupils were blown beyond proportion. Quinn ducked her head down and began to suck on the hollow of Santana's neck, right as the Latina spoke. "I-I don't question your ability t-to, oh God-" Quinn's tongue was fucking talented "-to seduce m-me. I'm not entirely, mmh, sure about your willp-power."

Quinn pulled away and narrowed her eyes at the Latina. "Oh really? You're questioning _my_ willpower?"

Santana nodded.

Quinn smiled and shook her head. "Oh, Lopez... you have no idea what you're in for."

Quinn slowly ran her hand from Santana's shoulder, over her chest, down her stomach, across her thighs and up, under her dress. She swiftly pushed aside the barrier over Santana's center and stared into the gaping Latina's eyes as she slowly, languidly dragged her finger around Santana's entrance and up her slit, straight to her clit. Quinn's eyes fluttered shut at the long, drawn-out moan released from the Latina, as her hand slipped through her wetness. Santana struggled for breath as a jolt of pleasure coursed through her.

Quinn let out a shuddering breath, knowing this was affecting her almost as much as it was, Santana. She carefully removed her hand from underneath Santana's dress and brought it to the small space between their faces. Santana gulped and Quinn smirked at how Quinn's fingers were shiny and glistening with Santana's arousal.

Santana's eyes widened and her jaw dropped even further as Quinn winked at her before slipping her fingers into her mouth, one-by-one, and sucked each off individually, letting out small moans at each finger. She tried to force air through her lungs, totally shocked that she was speechless, and for the first time in a very long time, without any sense of an upper-hand in this situation. Santana's eyebrows drew together in distress.

She was _so_ going to lose.

Quinn's voice dropped to a low, husky whisper.

"I don't think _I'm_ the one who's going to need help in that department, Santana."

Santana watched, salivating slightly as Quinn licked her lips and released the Latina, sauntering away and swaying her hips as she did so.

Yup, she was so fucking going to lose.

* * *

Rachel sighed as she finished writing up the last of the contract, silently questioning every decision she's ever made that has led her here, to this moment, writing a sex contract for her two best friends.

"Alright," she moaned deeply, wanting to get this over with as fast as possible. The least Brittany could have done was help, instead of watching in amusement at the two sexually competitive and frustrated lovers and her pained girlfriend. "This contract hereby states that Santana Lopez and Quinn Fabray will not have sex until their wedding in August, 2017."

Rachel paused and waited for both girls to nod before continuing. "If either girl caves in, her girlfriend gets to decide the name of their firstborn child. Caving involves asking or begging the other woman to engage in sexual relations with her, and/or instigating sexual relations with her partner."

Both Quinn and Santana rolled their eyes at the formality of the contract. Really, all they wanted was something in writing that said "No fucking; Winner gets to name their first baby." But Rachel, despite becoming way more laid-back and a lot more fun since high school, still had her compulsive tendencies, occasionally.

Santana nodded fiercely at this next part, not wanting a repeat of her moment of weakness up against the kitchen counter. "The only touching that is not allowed is anything below the belt. Everything else is fair game. Any venue to get the other girl to cave is allowed-" Rachel paused at the and looked both girls square in the eye as she spoke "-EXCEPT Rachel and Brittany's apartment. If Rachel finds out you did anything in her apartment, you both will be spayed."

Quinn and Santana's eyebrows drew together in surprise and mild offense that they would do such a thing. Both girls nodded anyway and Rachel nodded, acknowledging them before continuing once again.

"Any form of teasing is allowed, except anything that could be considered acting unfaithfully; cheating with someone else in any manner, including making out with Rachel." The diva rolled her eyes at that. Quinn nodded immediately, eyeing the Latina.

Rachel took a deep breath after staring the conditions, asking her question in the breath she let out, clearly expressing her disinterest in the matter. "Do you two agree with the terms and conditions?" Both girls nodded. "Then sign here," she told them, giving them pens and pointing to the bottom of the contract.

Both girls did as they were asked and slammed the pens down, completely confident in their own abilities. Rachel rolled her eyes. "Why are you guys doing this again?"

Quinn stared at Santana as she answered. "Because Santana thinks I can't withhold for a couple of months."

"Oh I _know_ you can't. Not when you're planning on marrying me," Santana tossed back.

Both girls felt a little thrill course through them knowing that in less than a year, they would be married.

"Make sure you can take what you dish out, Lopez. It is so on."

"You suck so bad Quinn Fabray. I'm definitely gonna beat you."

Rachel blew out a breath and leaned back on the couch, burying her head into Brittany's shoulder and closing her eyes. Brittany just smirked.

"You guys are going to be so entertaining to watch for the next couple of months," Brittany stated to the two girls who were currently staring each other down.

An interesting couple of months indeed.

* * *

A/N#2: Oh! Also, I almost forgot. I really hate advertising myself in my stories, but I got a tumblr to help everyone keep track of my stories and when I'll update, because now, I guess technically, I will be writing three stories, including Blindsided and For The Kingdom's sequel, And maybe, possibly the sequel to Revenge Has Never Tasted So Sweet, but I don't know yet. But yeah, feel free to follow me on there! My URL is PlainlyGracie dot tumblr dot com.


	7. You Would've Gone Straight To The Bottom

**Painting Our Own Picture**

Word count: 4k

Rating: T-M

Disclaimer: Glee is mine. This is actually in the script for Quinn's next visit to New York.

A/N: Sorry, I know, my updates are getting less consistent, but it was really only a little bit over two weeks this time. :/

Anyway, huge thank you to my beta, Floydist; Vonnuit, for helping me with the teasing in this chapter (whether she knew it or not), and Daisy for putting up with those anons on Tumblr. Also, I still have a Tumblr, in case you didn't catch it last chapter, it's in that Author's note.

And still, thank you so much for your wonderful reviews, they always make my day.

So here's the beginning of the Sex Bet!

* * *

Santana walked into the kitchen of their apartment, winding down after her incredibly long workout in the gym downstairs. She sighed as sweat dripped from the hairs at the nape of her neck down to the beginning of her spine, walking over to the fridge and pulling the door open to grab a water bottle.

So far, the bet hadn't been too bad. Little innuendos had been thrown in here and there, promises of wild, passionate sex, if the other would _just give in_. Caresses in passing and flirty slaps to the ass when one of them walked by. Santana was actually surprised that the two of them had reached a whole week; both of their libidos were insane. But for the most part, Santana and Quinn were civil towards each other, save for the friendlily competitive jibes that the other girl would cave in.

Santana twisted off the cap of the water bottle as she continued to try to regulate her breathing, because _fuck_, four hours is way too much. She tilted her head all the way back as she basically inhaled the water in large gulps. When the need to breathe became too much, she pulled the bottle away, gasping for breath.

The heat on her body soon became too much, and she walked over to the sink and poured the remaining water over her head and shoulders, not even bothering to care that most of the water landed on her torso, soaking through her shirt.

When the water bottle was empty, Santana crushed it in her hands and turned around, prepared to throw it in the trashcan, before she caught sight of her girlfriend, causing her jaw to drop. Quinn smirked at her girlfriend, placing both of her hands on her hips.

And Santana moaned pitifully, because there, standing in the middle of the kitchen, was her gorgeous girlfriend, donned in her bright red, form-fitting, jaw-dropping, skirt-too-short-to-be-considered-legal, Cheerios uniform from high school, looking as hot and confident as she did when she wore the outfit in high school.

Quinn fucking upped her game.

"Hey baby," the blonde said in a sickly sweet voice. "I just thought I'd try this on again to see if it fit. Nice to know I've maintained my figure. What do you think?" she asked, doing a quick twirl and giving Santana a magnificent view of her ass, contained in bright red spanks.

Santana continued to hold the crushed water bottle in a death grip. "I think we both know very well what I think of you in that uniform," she said, licking her lips. "What I don't know, is why you're home early. Better yet, why are you wearing your cheerleading uniform that I haven't seen in two years, even though I've BEGGED to see it before?"

Quinn shrugged. "I didn't have any more tours to give, and Roxy didn't have any work for me, so here I am." She stepped closer, lifting a hand to her face and inspecting her nails. "As for the uniform, I don't know, now just seemed like the perfect time to pull it back out." The smirk never left the blonde's face.

Santana knew exactly what Quinn was doing and why she was doing this, but she wasn't about to give the blonde the self-satisfaction of knowing she was beating her; even if Quinn did look incredibly hot and completely fuckable in that uniform. Santana steeled herself. Two could play at this game. If Quinn was ready to take it further, she could _so_ go further.

"Mmm, well you don't think it's a little small?" She said, leaning back against the counter.

Quinn's smirk faltered a little at the Latina's words. "Small?"

Santana shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well yeah. It's been quite a few years since high school, Quinn. You've gotten a little older. Your figure might not be exactly what it was back then. You don't think it's a little tight?"

Santana continued to feign nonchalance as she lied straight through her teeth. Of course Quinn looked insanely sexy in that uniform, and it fucking did things to the Latina, but she wasn't going to give in that easily. If Quinn wanted her to cave, she was going to have to try much harder than that.

Quinn narrowed her eyes. From the way Santana's chest was heaving and her eyes were glazed over, she KNEW the Latina wasn't telling the truth. Santana constantly pleaded with her to pull the uniform out for various reasons and scenarios that all led to the same thing: sex.

Quinn didn't exactly expect her to just give in and drop the bet to have sex right away, but she was hoping the uniform would break the model down a little bit.

And that's exactly what it had done, and both girls knew it.

Quinn: 1 Santana: 0

"Judging from your reaction to it, I don't even think _you_ find it too small at all," Quinn's smirk reset itself on her face.

Santana's mouth opened and closed a couple of times as she tried to think of something to say back, something that would help keep her from admitting that she was ready to throw Quinn over the counter right then.

But Santana made the mistake of letting her eyes roam over the blonde's figure, starting from the bottom of her incredibly endless legs, up to her thighs and that Goddamn skirt. She let her eyes linger on Quinn's chest as she couldn't help but think of how great her tits looked underneath her tight top. Santana totally bet Quinn's ass looked tantalizing underneath that skirt.

When the Latina's eyes finally met the blonde's she saw a twinkle in them that accompanied her smirk and Santana knew she had been caught. She had to think quickly.

Santana looked down at her water-soaked shirt and smirked. She grabbed the edge of the shirt with both hands and peeled it off her skin, pulling it over her head and tossing it on the counter. She smiled to herself, grateful that the water had soaked through and created a thin shine on her skin.

She looked over at Quinn, whose smirk had disappeared and eyes had glazed over. Santana held in a chuckle as she fanned her face and let out a deep sigh. "Sorry, that work-out was just insane, I needed to cool down my incredibly hot skin," she said, running her hands over her abs.

Santana locked her hands and pulled them over her head, stretching out her torso. When she let her arms relax at her sides, she knew she was having the right effect, if Quinn's dropped jaw was anything to go by. She followed the blonde's eyeline and watched as Quinn's eyes slowly traveled from her abs to chest, licking her lips as her gaze lingered on her sports bra, no doubt undressing her with her eyes.

Santana chuckled, totally okay with giving herself away. "My eyes are up here, Quinnie," she said as she winked.

Quinn's jaw dropped even further when she realized what Santana was doing.

Quinn: 1 Santana: 1

Quinn steeled her reaction and shut her mouth, ready to go to the extreme to make sure she was in the lead.

The blonde shook her head and smiled, stepping closer to Santana until they were inches away. "Oh I know where your eyes are, trust me. I was just more interested in _other_ parts of your anatomy." Quinn trailed her hand from her hip to her stomach, and underneath the hemline of her skirt. She dipped her fingers into her underwear before quickly removing them and bringing them between their faces, at Santana's eye line. "Well, I guess I was a little more than interested," she said as she watched the Latina's jaw hit the floor at the sight of her glistening fingers.

Santana's arousal hit an all time high knowing she had turned Quinn on.

Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.

"Well," Quinn said, speaking during Santana's reverie. "I have to meet Rachel in about half an hour to talk about when and how we'll start wedding planning, so I'll see you later, baby." She wiped her drenched fingers across Santana's glistening abs and pressed a chaste kiss to the model's lips, before disappearing from the room.

Santana just continued to stand there, incredulity plastered across her features as she contemplated everything that just happened. She couldn't believe Quinn had just done that. When did she get so bold? What happened to her innocent, clumsy, bashful girlfriend? Santana mentally cursed, knowing she was so fucked.

Santana: 1 Quinn: 5 billion

* * *

Santana knew she had to raise the stakes. If Quinn was going to randomly change the dynamic of their challenge, there's no way Santana wasn't going to beat her at her own game.

Santana awoke at Quinn's alarm, listening quietly as Quinn got up and gathered all of her clothes. She waited until she heard the shower running before she sprung from the bed and padded over to the closet. She pushed the hanging clothing aside and bent down to pull out their special box. Santana lifted the lid and dug through the contents of the box, feeling her arousal slightly heighten at the sight of some of the items. When her hand brushed across the object she was looking for, she smiled in victory, grabbing it and closing the box, sliding it back under the clothes and quickly making her way to the bathroom adjoining their bedroom.

Santana gripped the door handle and turned it, ever so slowly, squeezing her eyes shut as she carefully pushed the door open. The sound of the water hitting the floor of the shower filled her ears and light flooded her vision as she stepped into the bathroom. Santana crept over to the pile of clothes sitting on the lid of the toilet. She gently lifted each article of clothing, careful not to shift anything, before she reached the black lace panties Quinn had set out.

Santana smirked. This couldn't be more perfect.

Like a Jenga piece, she slowly removed the underwear, holding the pile securely as she did so. She slipped the black panties she was holding in place of the ones she had just taking and gave another triumphant smile.

The shower water suddenly stopped and Santana's eyes widened as her heart stopped. She squeezed Quinn's panties in her hand as she mouthed 'shit', quickly tiptoeing to the door and sliding out of the bathroom. She gripped the door, clenching her teeth as she quickly, but carefully shut it, holding her breath. Santana heard the shower curtain slide open just as she pushed the door shut. She winced, before sprinting to the bed and hopping onto it, sliding under the covers, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

When Quinn didn't immediately appear in their bedroom, Santana let out a breath of relief, making herself comfortable and smirking with pride.

Phase 1 complete.

* * *

Santana brushed a curl behind her ear as she waited at the reception desk, leaning against it and tapping her fingernails against the surface, impatiently. The device in her pocket felt like a daunting weight, causing her anxiousness to get into the gallery to skyrocket.

Seriously, did anyone even work here?

Right as the thought crossed Santana's mind, a flushed woman with bright red-dyed hair and a loose, one shoulder top and sharp glasses quickly speed-walked to the desk. "So sorry, we're getting a few more additions to one of our exhibitions and I've been over-seeing..." The woman trailed off as she looked up and realized who was standing there. "Oh, hello Santana," she said curtly, disinterest and disappointment laced through her words.

Santana refrained from rolling her eyes. "Hi Roxy," she greeted, false hospitality laced in hers as she attempted to be pleasant with Quinn's boss.

"Have you come to see Quinn?" Roxy asked, boredom now etched into her features. "She's giving a tour right now."

No, actually," Santana said, trying desperately to maintain her patience. "I just came to look around."

One of Roxy's eyebrows raised in disbelief. Santana fought the urge to slap the eyebrow off of the woman's face. "You just came to look around?"

"Yup," Santana immediately replied. "Just to look around."

The Latina didn't feel like making up any plausible excuses. Clearly neither woman liked the other; Roxy, for no clear reason, Santana, because Roxy didn't like her.

Roxy eyed Santana, waiting for her to elaborate. When she didn't, she sighed, obviously tired of Santana wasting her time. She held out her hand for Santana's pass, quickly scanning it and handing Santana the mandatory brochure, before walking out, rather rudely. Santana used her spare eye roll and entered the gallery, wasting no time, traveling through each room, searching for Quinn's tour.

When the sound of Quinn's soft and melodic voice filled her ears she smirked, reaching inside her leather jacket's pocket. Santana walked to the nearest painting, attempting to look unsuspecting, as the blonde continued to give her tour. Careful glances over her shoulder judged what Quinn was going to do next.

"These paintings in particular have a smoothness and a lyricism that is always a distinctive feature of her work," Quinn explained to the group as she gestured to a group of paintings all done by someone named Sirenes. Santana felt herself ache and throb at how educated Quinn was. She loved it when the blonde showed her love for art. "But can be seen to special advantage in the intriguingly titled acrylic on canvas— Santana?"

Santana jumped at the sound of her name, before quickly composing herself and pasting an innocent look on her face as she spun around. Quinn's group all looked at each other, confused.

Quinn's jaw flopped for a minute before it snapped shut and she just glared. Santana had to admit Quinn looked positively fuckable in her gray blazer and pants, hair pulled back tightly in a ponytail. Utterly professional.

Quinn shook her head and rolled her eyes, not even bothering herself with whatever crazy reason Santana was here for. She was on the clock. "In another large acrylic on canvas called 'Joy,' Sirenes conveys an even more elusive subject by virtue of her mastery of chromatic dynamics as vibrant and yet gentle as the music of Ravel," Quinn described as she gestured to the next painting by Sirenes.

Santana stared in awe, momentarily dumbstruck. This wasn't rehearsed. The Latina knew what rehearsed sounded like, coming from Quinn, and this was just passionate. Just her love for art being the only identifiable feature in her voice. Santana had the sudden urge to go up and claim Quinn in front of all of those people. To capture her mouth with her own and show everyone how proud she was that Quinn was going to be her wife.

Santana smirked. She guessed she'd just have to claim her in a different way.

"Here, delicately blended and vari- _Oh_..." Quinn let out a subtle moan in the middle of her speech, a jolt of pleasure coursing through her center. What the hell? She swallowed and attempted to compose herself, until suddenly the pleasure was back, only much more consistent. Quinn's eyebrows drew together in panic as she grew unsure of what was going on.

And then it clicked.

Quinn's eyes widened, before narrowing as she slowly turned her head in the direction of the mischievously smirking Latina. Santana wiggled her fingers cutely at Quinn and blew a kiss in her direction.

Quinn growled under her breath and turned her attention back to the confused tour. "I'm sorry about that," she apologized. "Where was I?"

Quinn's tour continued like this, with the blonde leading them through different rooms on wobbly legs, discussing each painting. Santana would follow the tour, always a couple of steps behind or ahead, watching intently, but subtly as she changed the intensity of vibrations on Quinn's vibrating underwear. Quinn would always jerk and jolt at each new setting, fumbling over her words and desperately trying to calm herself down. The further they went, the harder it was for Quinn to stay composed.

Quinn let out a deep sigh as they reached the last painting, vibrating at the thought of almost being done. Well, maybe she was vibrating for other reasons.

"Biddy Hodgkinson takes her inspiration from a close observation of life cycles, with particular focus on plants and molds. She wanted those who observed her paintings to delve even more deeply into the beauty and drama that occurs when plants, in particular, die."

Quinn took a deep breath, she could do this. She could get past the pleasurably tantalizing vibrations against her core and give this last explanation. She struggled to swallow as her stomach rolled with the coil tightening inside of her. She could...n't do this. It felt so damn good.

Shit, shit, shit.

Quinn was going to _kill_ Santana.

"Umm, Like those parts of nature itself that most other painters-AHHH!" Quinn cried out sharply as a particularly strong burst of pleasure spread from her center to the rest of her body, causing her to feel it in the tips of her fingers. Her hips subtly rolled with the pulsing, and Quinn quickly felt herself losing her resolve.

No, no, no, no, FUCK.

Quinn's head whipped around as she glanced desperately at Santana, who was a couple of paintings ahead of her. The Latina struggled not to laugh out loud as she just shrugged and a wave of panic slid over Quinn's features. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to breath through the torture.

Carefully turning back to the group, she took note of everyone's startled and concerned faces. She watched as some of them reached in their pockets and glanced at their phones to see if they were vibrating and a whole new feeling of panic hit her.

Someone asked Quinn if she was okay and she nodded frantically. "Mmm, f-fine, perfectly fine," she stumbled out. "L-Like those p-parts of nature itself that most other p-painters ignore for, oh, for umm, prettier effects, Hodgkinson's acrylic and mixed mmmm-media paintings make little effort to ingratiate themselves with the viewer."

Quinn rushed out the last little bit of her sentence and decided to quit right there. "Well, that's the end of the tour, you guys can go. Make sure to stop by the shop to buy posters. Pleasecomeagainbye!"

The group continued to keep the looks of confusion on their faces and for a fleeting moment Quinn was worried they would get stuck like that. She watched them slowly leave the gallery, one-by-one. Quinn waited for the last person to leave before letting out a loud, cathartic moan. She stumbled to the nearest wall and pressed her hands flat against it, letting her hips finally roll with the waves and vibrations. She continued to moan and writhe, eyes tightly shut, both excited and pissed that she was finally finding her release after a whole week of no sex. The vibrations suddenly stopped and Quinn let out a frustrated moan, nails digging into the white paint on the wall.

"I have to say, that was the most entertaining tour I've ever seen, Quinnie."

Quinn's eyes shot open and she carefully pushed herself off the wall. She spun around and took quick strides towards her girlfriend, pushing her up against the opposite wall and slamming their lips together. Santana sunk into the kiss and let Quinn take her hands and pin her arms over her head.

Their lips slid together frantically, teeth clinking and tongues dueling for battle. Their bodies were pressed tightly up against one another, sliding and rolling together. Santana could practically feel the desire from Quinn, pouring into her mouth and against her skin. She so won.

Quinn held both of Santana's wrists to the wall with one hand, before sliding her other hand down her body. She squeezed a breast and pinched Santana's nipple through her tight baby blue t-shirt before continuing her destination to the top of Santana's tight skinny jeans.

Quinn buried her mouth in Santana's neck, nipping and biting every inch of skin she could find. Santana moaned loudly at the sensation of Quinn sucking on her neck. She felt Quinn's fingers fumble with the button to her jeans and smirked.

"Does this mean I win?"

Quinn abruptly stopped everything. A long, silent pause fell through the room as Quinn froze. The blonde's head shot up and her incredulous, icy, hazel eyes glared into Santana's mirthful ones.

Quinn: 5 billion Santana: 5 billion and one

"Oh you suck," Quinn shook her head, releasing the Latina from the wall and brushing her hands against her blazer. She couldn't wrap her head around this. Santana had actually managed to one-up her.

"I do other things, too, baby," Santana winked.

"That was a really nice try. Almost... cute, but you so aren't winning this bet, Lopez," Quinn's expression shifted into a teasing smirk.

"You sure, Quinnie? I can totally take care of your throbbing and definitely soaked pussy, if you want."

Quinn felt the panties switch back on for a millisecond, causing her to moan involuntarily, before switching back off.

"Oh get bent," Quinn growled.

"Sure, where do you want me?" Santana chuckled.

"In a ditch somewhere."

"Aww, really Quinnie? That was harsh." Santana fake pouted.

Quinn shook her head and leaned in, pressing her lips against Santana's ear. "No. I want you bent over my bed, or tied to it, whichever works, while I spank your ass raw, before dipping my fingers into your drenched entrance and fucking you into oblivion, making you come _over_ and _over_ until you beg me to stop, tell me that you can't take it anymore. And then I want to lick up every drop of your wetness, evidence of your multiple orgasms. I want to suck you dry. And I will do all of this AFTER I win, Lopez. You picked the wrong girl to compete against."

Santana's jaw might as well have been touching the floor by the time Quinn pulled away, her eyes wide and glazed over. She blinked a couple of times. She had definitely underestimated Quinn at the beginning of this bet. Santana shook her head and smirked. No, she didn't pick the wrong girl. She probably picked the best girl to do this with. Santana Lopez loved a challenge.

"So what do you say we head home?" Santana said, abruptly changing the subject.

Quinn chuckled and smirked. "Sure, _Sannie_."

"How do we get out of here?" Santana said, looking around.

Quinn's eyebrows furrowed as she stared at Santana. "Are you serious? The exit sign's right there," Quinn said, pointing to the sign above an entryway.

Santana squinted at the direction Quinn was pointing and raised her eyebrows. "Oh. So that's what those red letters were saying..."

Quinn's face shifted to an expression of concern. "Santana, how could you not read that?"

Santana shrugged and looked away. "I don't know? I guess I just wasn't trying hard enough."

"Santana, you shouldn't have to try."

"It's fine, Quinn, I'm fine. I can see well enough."

Quinn stared at Santana for a long time, biting her lip. This wasn't a good thing. She sighed, deciding to spare Santana and just drop it right now. "Okay, Santana, we can go home."

Santana gave a grateful smile, even though she knew Quinn wouldn't let this go for long. She took Quinn's hand in hers and laced their fingers, pressing a kiss to Quinn's cheek.

Quinn smiled sympathetically, wanting Santana to know that she only had the best intentions, with the Latina completely in mind. "I love you, Santana. So, so much."

"I love you, too, Quinn. More than anything... but I so won."

"You did not! In your dreams, Lopez."

"Frequently."


	8. I don't know the steps! Neither do I!

**Painting Our Own Picture**

Word Count: 3k

Rating: Probably K, for once

Disclaimer: Glee is mine, but I'm not a Time Traveler like Riley, so I didn't write Winnie-The-Pooh, – that was all A.A. Milne (who is a genius for writing something so amazing).

A/N: I thought I'd write a quick little flash forward to tide you over until I really update. Plus, this is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine. Hopefully my beta won't be upset because of this :P Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

"Mamí?" A little voice called from the door. When there wasn't an answer, the voice called again, "Mama?"

Quinn's eyes shot open immediately at the sound of her name being called by her little boy. She carefully removed her arm from Santana's swelling belly and sat up, squinting her eyes slightly to see the small figure standing in the doorway, clutching his Pooh Bear stuffed animal with one hand and his baby blanket with the other. She watched him wobble a little on his sleepy legs and Quinn's heart melted. "Aww, come here baby boy."

Tony slowly, sleepily staggered over to his mamas' bed and sturdily set his Bear and Blanket down before clumsily throwing one leg onto the bed and struggling to get up. Quinn watched carefully, judging whether or not she'd need to intervene. She gave a small, tired smile as he finally pulled himself up and rolled into Quinn's side.

The blonde gave another smile and mussed up his bed head before he batted her hands away. Tony rolled himself over and wrapped his arm over Quinn's midsection, squeezing tightly as he clenched his eyes shut and found comfort in his mama. Quinn finally noticed that the poor boy was frightened. "Aww, honey, what happened?"

"I had a nightmare," Tony pouted into Quinn's ribs.

"I'm sorry, baby. Do you want to talk about it?" She said, softly, trying to make sure her restless wife kept sleeping – the first real sleep Santana had gotten in weeks. Tony shook his head no. "Then do you want to sleep with your Mamí and I?" She asked.

Tony shook his head again. "I'm not tired."

Quinn chuckled softly as she began rubbing his head again. "Buddy... You could barely make it to the bed, you were so tired."

"But I can't _sleep_," Tony said, clear exasperation in his voice at Quinn's obvious ignorance here.

Quinn raised her eyebrow and tried not to laugh at her sassy boy. "Then what do you want me to do about it?"

Tony rolled his head up to look into Quinn's eyes, and Quinn slid her arms around the poor boy, hugging him close to her at the sight of his bloodshot eyes, tear stains fading on his cheek. Her eyebrows furrowed and her face shifted into a concerned expression, wanting nothing more than to protect him from whatever he had imagined in his dream.

"Will you read me Winnie-The-Pooh, mama?" Tony asked.

"Aww, I'd love to, sweetie, but your mother is asleep, and I really need her to stay asleep. You know how cranky she's been lately?" She asked with a soft, teasing smile. Tony nodded immediately. "That's because your baby sister is doing a lot of funny things in her belly that makes it tough for her to sleep, and Mamí really likes sleep, so she gets very upset when she doesn't get any."

"Yeah, but why does she like it so much? She takes naps and I thought naps were for babies," Tony asked, trying to rationalize his crazy mom.

Quinn smirked. "Well, your Mamí is a lazy butt," she said with a grin, patting Tony's bottom. "And naps are not just for babies, Tony. You still have to take them."

Tony furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. "I know... I don't like them. And I'm not a baby."

"No you aren't, big boy. And I know you don't like them, but you still have to take them," Quinn said firmly.

"Why...?" Tony whined.

Quinn shushed him gently, trying to keep the volume down. "Because then you'll be just as cranky as your Mamí, and Lord knows I can't take two cranky butts running around."

"I'm not a cranky butt," the little boy pouted.

Quinn chuckled. "That's because you take naps."

Tony rolled his eyes over-dramatically and both of Quinn's eyebrows shot up this time.

"Did Mamí teach you that?" She said with an incredulous smile.

Tony buried his face into his mama's side and groaned, quieting as Quinn shushed him and petted his soft hair. "Will you _please_ read me Winnie-The-Pooh? I had a _nightmare_," the boy explained again, exasperatedly.

Quinn winced, scared to do anything that might even remotely wake Santana. She wasn't kidding when she said it – Santana had been so cranky lately. Not that she didn't love her to death, but boy, was she a pain-in-the-ass when she was pregnant.

She looked back down at Tony and his watery eyes and adorable pout.

Shit.

She should've known having children with Santana meant adding _more_ family members she wouldn't be able to say no to. But that brought a smile to her face, because she and Santana started a family together. She actually had her own family, with a beautiful wife, an adorable little boy, a new baby girl on the way, and two wonderful, lovable dogs. As incredibly imperfect as she and Santana were, they certainly created the perfect picture together.

Quinn sighed, because she somehow managed to convince _herself_ to read her son the story, thinking about their family, and how much she loved each of them.

"Alright, Tony," Quinn finally gave in. "But the lights have to stay off, so let's see how much of this I can remember, yeah?"

Tony nodded enthusiastically, reaching behind him to grab his Pooh Bear as he stared up at Quinn, cuddling the both of them into her side.

"Do you remember the balloon story?" Quinn asked quietly.

"Only a little," Tony said. "But Pooh fell out of the tree first!"

Quinn hushed Tony once again, wishing that he knew how to whisper _quietly_. "Yeah? How'd that happen?"

Tony rolled his eyes again. "_Mama_, you know this part."

Quinn smiled. "Tell me anyway."

"Buzzing means there's bees, and bees make honey, and you only make honey because _Pooh_ eats it, so he climbed the tree!"

Quinn's smile turned into a full-blown grin at their smart, little boy. Three years old, and he could easily recall a Winnie-The-Pooh story. It was one of her favorite things about her son. He loved Pooh just as much as she did. And Quinn _loved_ Winnie-The-Pooh.

"He did?" She whispered playfully.

"Yup! And he climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed!" Tony was basically bouncing now. Quinn had to place both hands on either side of his head to keep him from nodding.

"Shhh, remember, Mamí's sleeping."

"But the branch he was on broke and he tumbled all the way down the tree and he wanted Christopher Robin's help."

Quinn chuckled softly. "Good job. And then he goes to see Christopher Robin, right?"

"Yup!" Tony grinned.

Quinn brushed back his soft, blonde hair, keeping it out of his eyes. "And do you remember what Pooh asks?" Tony shook his head. "'I wonder if you've got such a thing as a balloon about you?'" Quinn had to mentally skip the repetition in the book, trying to make it simple enough that Tony would understand the story and picture it enough to fall asleep. "'What do you want a balloon for?' You said, Christopher Robin."

Tony giggled, please at being called Christopher Robin.

"Winnie-The-Pooh looked round to see that nobody was listening, put his paw to his mouth, and said in a deep whisper: 'HONEY!' And you said 'But you don't get honey with balloons!'"

"HE does," Tony told Quinn, surprising the blonde by how he knew exactly what the book said.

"You're right," Quinn winked. "And do you remember which color balloons he wanted?"

"Umm, green because it looked like leaves, or blue because it looked like the sky."

"Because the bees wouldn't know he was coming," Quinn helped him.

"Yeah," Tony agreed, wanting to get on with the story.

"And Pooh said he would try to look like a black cloud, so you told him to use the blue balloon."

"Because clouds are in the sky!"

"Right. So Pooh went to a very muddy place that he knew of, and rolled and rolled until her was black all over; and then, when the balloon was blown up as big as big, and you and Pooh were both holding onto the string, you let go suddenly, and Pooh Bear floated gracefully up into the sky and stayed there."

"Hooray!" Tony quoted, his whisper-voice not-so whisper-like.

"And Winnie-The-Pooh shouted down to you, 'what do I look like?'"

"You look like a bear holding onto a balloon," A raspy, sleepy voice answered.

Quinn winced as she heard her wife roll over, feeling Santana's eight and a half month, pregnant belly press snuggly into her side as Santana cuddled up next to her.

"I'm so sorry, baby, we tried to keep it down," Quinn said, softly, removing one hand from Tony's head so she could pat down Santana's mussed up hair instead.

"It's alright. I'm awake, now. Keep going, I'll help," Santana said, smiling sleepily.

"Okay," Quinn giggled at her adorable wife as she pulled her son closer to her. Tony just grinned at the both of them, excited to have TWO mamas telling the story, now. "'Not like a small black cloud in a blue sky?' Pooh asked anxiously."

"Not very much," Santana's hoarse voice cooed.

Quinn struggled to remember what he said next. "But Pooh ignored it, because there was honey," She very loosely recalled, nudging Santana when the Latina snorted at her bad recollection. "Do you want to tell the story?"

"No, I think you're doing just fine on your own," Santana said through a smile.

Quinn rolled her eyes and continued. "There was no wind to blow him nearer to the tree, so there he stayed. He could see the honey, he could smell the honey, but..." Quinn egged her son on.

"He couldn't reach the honey," Tony finished, beginning to remember the story quite well.

Quinn nodded. "And after a little while he called down to you. 'Christopher Robin!' He said in a loud whisper."

"Hello?" Santana spoke for Christopher Robin.

"I think the bees _suspect_ something!"

"What sort of thing?"

"I don't know. But something tells me they're _suspicious_!"

Tony interrupted. "What does 'espishes' mean?"

Quinn smiled and rubbed his shoulder.

"It means he thinks the bees know that Pooh is trying to get their honey," Santana answered, reaching over and rubbing the boy's arm. "And you, Christopher Robin, said 'Maybe they think that you're after their honey'."

"The word was 'perhaps', not 'maybe'," Quinn mumbled.

"Really, Quinn? Do you really want to point that out after that giant mistake you just made?" Santana whispered, quietly laughing.

Quinn just pouted and stuck her tongue out.

"You're so childish," Santana laughed, kissing Quinn's pout. "Continue."

Quinn rolled her eyes and decided to skip the umbrella part where Christopher Robin dances under Pooh with an umbrella to make him look like a storm cloud, praying Tony wouldn't notice.

"So the bees were buzzing as suspiciously as ever. Some of them, indeed, left their nest and flew all around the cloud, and one bee sat down on the nose of the cloud for a moment, and then got up again," Quinn continued the story.

Quinn looked down at Tony, praying he hadn't noticed the large gap in the story, and smiled in relief when she saw his eyes drooping, as he struggled to keep paying attention, no doubt too tired to realize that they had skipped part of it. "Do you want to sleep, buddy?"

"No!" Tony jumped up, trying to shake himself awake.

Quinn reached out and pulled Tony back to her, restraining the boy. "Okay!" She giggled. "We'll continue the story."

"Good," Tony said, nodding his head as he snuggled back up to Quinn. "But I want Mamí to be Pooh Bear, now."

Quinn and Tony both looked over at Santana expectantly. Santana stared at them with sleepy eyes, before rolling them at the two blondes and sighing. "'Christopher-_OW!_-Robin,' called out the cloud as it was stung."

"'Yes?'" Quinn asked, quoting the book and mimicking Christopher Robin.

Santana sighed and gave her best Pooh Bear voice, causing her wife and her son to giggle – Quinn's laugh more subtle as she attempted to stifle it. "I have just been thinking, and I have come to a very important decision. _These are the wrong sort of bees._"

"'Are they?'"

"Quite the wrong sort," Santana responded, causing Quinn to actually giggle out loud this time, at Santana's accidental posh lilt. Santana glared at her. "So I should think they would make the wrong sort of honey, shouldn't you?"

"Would they?"

"Yes. So I think I shall come down."

"'How?' Asked you."

"Can we have honey on our toast tomorrow?" Tony interrupted.

Both women were startled by the interruption, before Santana looked down at the boy. "Will you promise to try to sleep?" Santana asked.

"Yes! I promise!" Tony nodded.

Santana and Quinn looked at each other for a split second, just to confirm, before Santana nodded. "Sure, Christopher Robin."

"Yay!" Tony bounced.

"But you have to promise to try to sleep now, " Quinn told him.

"Yes, mama, I will," Tony said, immediately scrambling over Quinn and crawling over to get between his two mamas.

"Antonio, be careful!" Quinn panicked, watching Tony's kicking legs as they got dangerously close to Santana's swollen belly.

Santana gently stilled Tony's scrambling torso with one hand while she placed the other over her stomach protectively. "It's alright. Calm down, buddy, we don't want to hurt your sister, do we?" Santana asked the little boy.

Tony immediately lied still on his back, looking into his Mamí's eyes and shaking his head no.

"Then you've got to be a little more careful, niño," Santana told him. "You're alright," she said, watching Tony panic for a moment.

Quinn brushed his hair back. "Let's continue with the story. So, when Christopher Robin asked 'How?' Winnie-the-Pooh realized he hadn't thought about this. If he let go of the string, he would fall—BUMP—and he didn't like the idea of that. So he thought for a long time, and then he said..."

"Christopher Robin, you must shoot the balloon with your... Gun," Santana winced, knowing how excited her son could get at the thought of something violent, and not wanting him to pretend to shoot people and justifying it by saying 'Christopher Robin did it!' But when the Latina looked down at her son, she realized he was already almost asleep, and probably wouldn't remember much of this in the morning. "'Have you got your gun?'"

"'Of course I have,' you said. 'But if I do that, it will spoil the balloon,' you said."

"'But if you DONT,' said Pooh. "I shall have to let go, and that would spoil ME.'" Santana's fake-concerned expression caused a sleepy Tony to giggle slightly.

"When you put it like this," Quinn narrated. "You saw how it was, and you aimed very carefully and the balloon, and fired."

"_'OW_!'" said Pooh."

"'Did I miss?' You asked." Quinn quoted word-for-word now, remembering this part almost exactly.

Santana looked into Quinn's eyes as she spoke the next part, accidentally losing the Pooh voice as she got lost in Quinn's eyes. "'You didn't exactly _miss_,' said Pooh, 'but you missed the _balloon_.'"

"'I'm so sorry,' you said," Quinn quoted softly. "And you fired again, and this time you hit the balloon, and the air came slowly out, and Winnie-the-Pooh floated down to the ground."

Santana decided to keep narrating for the blonde. "But his arms were so stiff from holding on to the string of the balloon all that time that they stayed up straight in the air for more than a _week_, and whenever a fly came and settled on his nose, he had to blow it off. And I think—but I am not sure— that _that_ us why he was always called Pooh."

"Is that the end of the story?" Quinn quoted Christopher Robin in the book.

Santana smiled softly. "That's the end of that one. There are others."

A soft silence took over the room, and Quinn and Santana both looked down at their baby boy, fast asleep. Quinn smiled and brushed his hair out of his eyes once more before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, watching Santana do the same.

"I'm sorry for waking you," Quinn said over Tony's head as she laid herself down and propped her head up with her elbow.

Santana got into the same position as Quinn. "It's okay. I stopped sleeping, but I did get to participate in a wonderful dream."

Quinn chuckled. "You're such a cheeseball when you're exhausted, San," she said, brushing the Latina's hair back behind her ear. "We didn't exactly miss, we just missed the balloon."

"We _could_ hit the balloon with a quickie to get me to fall asleep," Santana winked.

Quinn's eyes widened as her jaw dropped. "_Santana_! Our son is right there!" Santana struggled not to bust up laughing as she looked at the blonde's flabbergasted expression. Quinn's eyes narrowed at the Latina. "Oh you bitch."

"Quinn! Not in front of our son!" Santana mocked playfully.

Quinn stuck her tongue out and laid down fully, snuggling her son and ignoring the giggling Latina.

* * *

Quinn smiled softly as her sleepy wife walked into the kitchen. The Latina had slept well through the morning and into the afternoon, the best sleep Santana had gotten in a long time.

"Hey baby," she said as she walked her way over to the waddling Latina and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"I smelled honey," Santana said as Quinn walked behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist. Santana just stared at the golden piece of toast her son was hungrily munching down on.

Quinn pressed a kiss just behind Santana's ear. "Do you want me to get you a balloon?" She whispered with a smirk, softly pressing her hands against the enthusiastic kicking in Santana's tummy.

"Watch it, Fabray. Don't think I didn't hear you call me a lazy butt last night."

Quinn's eyes widened slightly when she realized Santana caught that. "It was said out of love..."

"Mmhmm. Just make me some toast," Santana ordered.

"Aww, does Pooh Bear's tummy have a rumbly?" Quinn cooed playfully.

"I'm going to kill you now."

Quinn smiled, feeling Santana lean back into her arms. "I love you, Santana. So, so much."

I love you, too, Quinn. More than anything," Santana returned the sentiment before pressing her lips against the blonde's.


End file.
